Come What May
by wind-dancer99
Summary: The tragedies and pains of war will put Michaela and Sully's relationship to the ultimate test. Even with hundreds of miles between them and fear surroundng them, will Michaela and Sully be able to keep the hope alive that is needed in order to survive?
1. Chapter 1: The Distance of Love

**Come What May**

_Prologue:_

I want to first start of by saying that I, like so many other fans, do not, unfortunately, own the rights to Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman, as it is owned by CBS, the Sullivan Company, and A&E.

(FYI): I have changed the character's ages to fit the needs of my story while I will do my best to keep the characters true to the show.

This story uses the strong relationship between Michaela and Sully and places the characters in a slightly earlier time period (Civil War) to challenge their love. ...It's a story of love's enduring promise and a tale which portrays of the tragedy of war...enjoy!

_"Come what may, I will love you till the end of time..." (Moulin Rouge)_

_**Chapter One: The Distance of Love **_

"No…" She breathed.

Staring aimlessly at the walls that surrounded her, Michaela suddenly realized how different they appeared from this point-of-view. What once was the welcoming support of her haven, now were walls of confinement; walls that contained memories of receiving news of an unwanted joy.

"Is there something wrong, Dr. Quinn?" The elderly gentleman spoke while concern and confusion grazed his face.

"_Life, life is wrong! Life tortures; it gives you your heart's desire then pulls it back by a string and makes you watch it dangle dangerously over the edge of a cliff"_ Michaela's heart sang out from worry and angst. But alas, her heart had no chord to vocalize itself with; so Michaela merely shook her head and gave him a smile that did not quite reach her eyes.

"No, everything is fine, wonderful…"

The man looked Michaela up and down, perplexed by her behavior. "Is…is your husband going to be upset?" he questioned curiously.

Michaela's eyes shot up to meet his. His question was almost amusing to her. "No, no Dr. Bernard that's not a problem at all. Thank you for coming." Michaela said flatly while sliding from her perch and walking quickly towards the door.

Dr. Bernard looked the young woman up and down once more before concluding that he was no match for her stubbornness. After he retreated to the desk for his jacket and following Michaela's path to the door, Dr. Bernard tipped his hat as he passed her on his way out of the clinic.

Michaela smiled slightly in acknowledgment and closed the door as he exited. The 'clicking' of the bolt locking with the door sounded like a gunshot, breaking the silence of the room. Michaela turned and leaned her back up against the oak portal as tears swelled in her eyes before they broke their controlling barrier and cascaded down her cheeks. So many tears had fallen over the past month. Now, when good news actually came, it was shattered by heart break that had taken Michaela's spirit for week now.

"I should be overjoyed…I should be running home to his outstretched arms, to tell him of this miracle. But now…now of all times, I can't…It would hurt him too much…it would hurt both of us too much…"

Michaela's legs trembled from beneath her and she gave into their request by sulking down onto the wood floor and resting her head in the bulk of her skirt; as tears fell and soaked the burgundy fabric.

She sat there, head bent and knees tucked close to her chest, for an unknown length of time. Miserable torture took hold of her as she debated whether to tell him or not. In mid-thought, Michaela was awakened from her reverie when she heard the faint sound of a knock and felt pressure breaching the door.

Michaela stood quickly, composing herself and drying the tears from her sore face, before reaching for the bolt to unlock the door. As the door sprang open, Michaela's breath caught and her nerve failed her.

He saw her tear raked face and shaking figure and took in a deep breath before rushing to catch her falling body. Michaela broke down; sobbing into her beloved's shoulder, soaking his shirt with her misery.

"Oh Michaela, what is it? Shh…I know…I know this is hard. I don't want to…God; I don't want to do this…" He whispered gently into her ear, as he held her trembling body in his arms.

Michaela shook her head and tried to catch her breath between sobs. "Then don't…please…please don't leave me…"

It tortured him to hear her cry out that way, and killed him to know that he could not do as she requested. "I wish…you know I wish I could…but there's no way to get out of this. I'd be a wanted man if I didn't go."

"I know…I know…but…I love you…I couldn't bear to lose you, Sully!" Michaela cried, taking in short, heaving, gasps of air.

Sully cradled Michaela's head delicately in his hands and stared deep into her eyes, vowing his very soul to her. "I promise you Michaela…I will get back to you…I will do everything humanly possible to get back to you! I love you…we'll be together again…I promise you…"

Michaela shook her head, doubting Sully's words. "How…how can you promise such a thing?"

Sully answered by enveloping her lips with his in a gravity defying kiss, which sent both souls soaring in a burst of exultation and love. Slowly pulling away, Sully looked down into his love's eyes, brushing away the tears with the soft pad of his thumb. "Because I can feel it, Michaela…You've touched my soul, and I've touched yours…we were meant to be together…and nothin' can tear that apart! Not a thousand miles between us, not even the damn union and confederate armies…nothin'…"

Michaela nodded slowly, never allowing her gaze to drop from his admiral blue orbs.

"Let's go home…" He whispered gently, as he lovingly caressed her cheek.

* * *

_Pain seared through her body and gripped her soul as she crawled through the tar-like substance that pulled her down, preventing her from moving or even drawing breath. "No, no you can't be gone…..you wouldn't…you promised!" Michaela whimpered. Gazing up into the blackened heavens, she pleaded with whatever God or spirit would listen; but her only response was the constant swirling and darkening of the malicious storm…and as the clouds gained power, Michaela faded along with her hope "No…you promised…" _

"NO!" Michaela sat up with a start, sweat blanketing her naked body. She trembled violently as a cool breeze blew into the room; while she sat, still reliving the nightmare. The fear, the pain, the agony…it was all so real. Taking in deep breaths, Michaela tried to calm her racing heartbeat but found the effort to be useless.

"I have to tell him…he has to know before he goes…" Michaela whispered to herself.

"Michaela? What's wrong?" Sully said drowsily while raising his arm up, beckoning her down to him. Michaela fell back into his enveloping arms, unsure yet of how or what to say.

"You'll be leaving in a few hours….and you may never come back….that's what's wrong…" But she was cut off by Sully, who placed his finger tenderly over her lips.

"I told ya before…I'm coming back…"

"But you're not God, Sully! You can't be sure of these things!"

"You don't have to be God, to know what's in your own heart…" Sully whispered while slowly caressing her cheek.

Tears continued to spring anew in her eyes as she watched Sully try to hide the pain that was evident in his own crystal orbs of columbine-blue. She couldn't believe how brave he was trying to be for her…everything was for her. "Sully…I'm sorry…I…"

"Shh…don't be sorry, Michaela…" Sully silenced her once more with a passionate kiss that sent her begging for more. Much to Michaela's disappointment, Sully suddenly pulled back. "Did ya want to talk about something else?"

Michaela's eye-brows slanted with confusion. "Something?"

"When ya woke up, ya seemed…upset…ya said something about needed to tell someone something…just wondering if I might be that someone?"

Michaela instantly dropped her gaze, unable to find the courage to tell him. It would hurt him, she knew it…it would be too hard for him to leave…and yet he needed to know…it wouldn't be fair not to tell him…but since when was anything fair?

"Oh…that…it was…it was nothing…well…I mean…young Brian Cooper…he just wanted me to tell you good-bye…" Michaela smiled slightly, hoping Sully wouldn't see the nervousness in her eyes.

Sensing that he would get nothing more from Michaela, Sully decided to disregard her odd behavior. "Ah well…will ya tell Brian bye for me?"

Michaela smiled up at him, relieved that he did not push for more. "Yes of course…" Then she stared up into his face, so full of love and angst…hope and fear…but she did her best to not allow it to overwhelm her as Sully kissed her feverously, igniting the spark of passion and a night of love that would not be forgotten.

* * *

Sun rays danced across her face as Michaela awoke from the long night before. Turning to face Sully, Michaela gasped when she found his place untenanted. "Sully?" Michaela whispered. When she received no reply, Michaela called out again. "Sully, where are you?"

Suddenly her eyes fell upon an envelope, lying neatly across Sully's pillow. Michaela reached for it, fearful of what it might say…fearful that this maybe good bye. Withdrawing the letter inside, Michaela silently read Sully's loving reminder…

_I promise you, Michaela_

_All my love,_

_Sully_

Tears broke through their barriers once again, as Michaela realized that he had left…"Oh, Sully…why did you have to go? Why did you have to join this dreadful war?"


	2. Chapter 2: How to Say GoodBye

**_Chapter 2: How to Say Good-Bye_**

Sun beams bled through the lace curtains, which swayed gently in the breeze that swept through the open window. Michaela sat at her desk, staring blankly at the walls as she had the day before. The pain however was worse…he was gone; he was gone with out a good-bye or a final kiss…

"But what difference would it have made?" Michaela thought out loud. "How can you give someone a final kiss…or a final hug? How can you tell someone good-bye…and know that it may truly be good-bye…not for the moment, or the day…but for the year…or maybe even for life? How...?" Michaela breathed as she wrapped her arms around herself, envisioning being in his arms…cradling her and…and… "How…?"

But Michaela's distant train of thought was suddenly shattered by the abrupt entering of Dorothy. "Oh Michaela, I just had to…" Dorothy paused upon seeing the devastation across Michaela's face. "Oh, Michaela…Sully left today, didn't he?"

Michaela nodded. "Yes…early this morning…"

"Oh I'm so sorry, Michaela!" Dorothy exclaimed as she made her way over to Michaela's chair to rest a comforting hand on her distressed friend's shoulder. "Tom just left too…I never thought I'd see the day when my young Tommy left for war…but at least he signed up for this war! Sully…wasn't he just registered for the army?"

Michaela nodded, letting words leave her mouth with no emotion attached to them. "He joined the army when Abagail died as his way to grieve…then he resigned his commission and came back to Colorado Springs, to try and make his life right again…but the army sent a telegraph…saying that his services were needed…"

"So he had to go?"

Michaela nodded, while tears begged to be released from their strong hold. "…Sully sent a telegram back saying he would accept, if and only if, they put him under Chamberlain's command…Sully met him a long time ago…I don't remember where or when…I wasn't listening when Sully told me…" her voice cracked as the tears pushed harder to be liberated.

"Oh, Michaela!" Dorothy sighed gently, while wrapping her arms around Michaela's shoulders.

Michaela shook her head, allowing the tears to begin their continuous descent down her cheeks. "…I almost wished they had put him under someone else's command…then he would have refused…"

"But Michaela…he would have been a wanted man…ya always would've been on the run!" Dorothy reasoned as she hugged Michaela as she might have done with her daughters when they were younger.

Michaela nodded, as more tears dispersed onto Dorothy's shoulder. "I know…I told him that right away…but yesterday…yesterday, when he needed me the most…I couldn't be strong for him…it hurt too much!" Michaela sobbed.

Dorothy nodded, rubbing Michaela's back gently. "It's ok, Michaela…in situations like these…just livin' is hard…just pulling yourself off of the floor and looking him straight in the eye shows your strong…"

Michaela pulled away from Dorothy, brushing away the ears unsuccessfully from her wet face. "How are you doing it, Dorothy? Your son just went off to war?"

Dorothy's face suddenly became very somber, and she nodded slightly, while thoughts and emotions flew through her and she tried to analyze each expression. "I suppose, I've known this would happen for a long time…I mean…we've all known the war was comin', just a matter of when…and I guess I always somehow knew that Tom would be one of the ones to volunteer…he wanted to make his father proud of him…" Dorothy chuckled slightly to herself at the thought. "…Not sure whether Marcus even knows there's a war going on…not to mention that his son just left to fight in it…" Suddenly her face turned bright red, realizing she said her last thoughts out loud. "…But, um…the doctor….I heard you had another doctor come into town; from Denver, I believe?"

Michaela nodded, deciding to talk about Marcus another time. "Yes…yes, Dr. Bernard came in yesterday…"

"And…what'd ya need him for?" Dorothy asked with curiosity.

Michaela suddenly stood and began to walk towards her medicine cabinets, trying not to look Dorothy in the eye. "Oh…nothing important…now wherever did I put that Milfoil…"

Dorothy followed Michaela slowly across the room, her curiosity growing with Michaela's attempt to change the subject. "On the top shelf, where ya keep all of your herbs…Michaela...?"

"Oh, silly me…yes, there it is." Michaela cut Dorothy off, while stretching to reach the jar.

Dorothy came up behind her and retrieved the glass for Michaela, who turned and glanced briefly up at her, before attempting to get away again. Dorothy, however, placed her hands gently on Michaela's shoulders, keeping her in one spot. "Michaela…you're my best friend…and I know that things have been really hard…but I'm here for you if ya want to talk…about anything…"

Michaela looked up from the jar of Milfoil, to Dorothy's gaze, full of compassion and friendship. Nodding slowly, Michaela felt her free hand go instinctively to her abdomen. "Dr Bernard…he…he came to do a check up…"

Dorothy frowned, puzzled. "Why couldn't you do the check up, Michaela?"

"Because, I was the person in need of the check up…" Michaela explained slowly.

Dorothy's face suddenly went pale. "Oh Michaela are you sick? Are you going to be ok?"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine…no, it was something else…I…I was pretty sure, but Dr. Bernard was heading in this direction, so I thought I might just ask him for a confirmation…" Michaela tried to explain, emotion beginning to get in the way of her ability to explain everything.

"Well…what's wrong then?"

Michaela sighed before preparing herself for the plunge. "Dorothy…I had Dr. Bernard complete a full examination of me…and he found…that I…I am…I'm going to have a…a…"

"A baby…" Dorothy breathed, as everything about Michaela's presence became clear. When Michaela nodded, Dorothy let out a light cry of excitement and hugged Michaela. "Oh, Michaela that's wonderful! That's…that's…Michaela?" Dorothy pulled back, when she felt Michaela continue to be tense in her arms and the new tears begin to soak her shoulder once again. "Why…whatever is the matter Michaela? Didn't you and Sully want a child?"

Michaela nodded as more tears cascaded down her fair cheeks. "Of course we wanted children….Sully use to tell me of how he would have dreams of our children, running around the homestead, or meeting Cloud Dancing...it was our dream…our future…"

"Well then, why are…oh…Michaela did you tell him?" Dorothy asked, as the entire situation finally dawned on her.

"How…? How was I supposed to tell him, Dorothy?" Michaela asked bitterly, emotions steering her actions. "How could I do that to him…just before he goes off to fight…when he may never come back again…?"

"So what's gonna happen if he does come home and he sees you with a child…how ya think he's gonna react?"

Michaela rolled her eyes. "I have every intention of writing to him about it in my letters!"

"I don't understand why you didn't just tell him before he left…" Dorothy said softly.

Michaela sighed and walked over to the open window to stare out at the meadow, where children frolicked and played during their recess. The meadow held so many memories to Michaela…it was were she first saw Sully, right before she landed head first in the mud…it was where she and Sully had their first picnic together; when, just as they were beginning to eat, it began to pour down rain, and they were forced to run to the clinic for shelter. Little did they mind, however, for it was then that they shared their first kiss…but the meadow also held her most cherished memory of all…when she married Byron Sully, three months ago, today…

The tears fell at a high frequency as the memories and emotions piled on top of one another. "Because I was a coward…" Michaela breathed. "I couldn't bear to see the pain in his eyes when he discovered that he was going to have to leave me pregnant…the pain of knowing he may never see his child…."

"Oh, Michaela…" Dorothy rushed to her side and hugged Michaela again.

Michaela, this time however, did not back away or remain stiff for Dorothy; instead, she her sobs grew as her emotions and fears poured out of her. "Oh Dorothy...how…how do I tell him?"

Dorothy held Michaela gently as she too stared out the window, pondering Michaela's dilemma. "You just have to tell him, Michaela…ya just have to tell him…

* * *

"Lieutenant Byron Sully, reporting for duty, sir." Sully announced to the young man taking attendance.

"Sully…Sully…" The man whispered to himself as he fingered through his lists of names. "Sully…ah, yes, Sully…we've been expecting you! Ninth tent on the left… fourth cot over…we'll be staying here for three more nights then we're packin' up and heading out."

"Yes, sir…" Sully said solemnly, before turning and walking towards his assigned tent, pulling his horse, Keen Eye, a long behind him. Tying him to a post, Sully watched as two boy, no older than 16, sat on a log nearby and examined the rifles they had just been issued. Judging by their curiosity and discomfort holding it, Sully presumed that these boys had never picked up a gun in their life…much like himself when he first entered the army. Now those same boys would be marching into battle in three days, where they would be sitting among the men and shooting at other 16 year olds on the other side.

"War is the end of innocence…" Sully said under his breath as he finished tying Keen Eye up and began to make his way into the tent.

Pushing back the flap, which covered the entrance, Sully walked into the Tent, hoping to find some peace. Instead, the tent was full of its various occupants socializing and beginning the path of bonding. Finding his cot quickly, Sully threw his bag next to the bed and removed the navy jacket he was wearing. Just as he was about to settle down, Sully suddenly heard his name called.

"Sully! Oh my lord, Sully, it that you?"

Sully watched as a fair-haired man, about the same age as he, weaved in and out of the various groups to get to where Sully sat. "Daniel? Daniel! Didn't expect to find ya here!" Sully said while rising to give his old friend a good slap on the back.

"Same here…how've ya been, Sully? How's the wife, Michaela, right?"

Sully nodded grasping the picture he had of her in his pocket. "She's…she's fine…"

Daniel nodded, knowingly. "Can't be easy on her…the war and all…"

Sully stared off into space, deep in thought. "Nothing ever is…"

"How long have you two been married?" Daniel asked with curiosity.

"Thee months now…" Sully's fingers continued to stroke the picture, which remained in his pocket, deciding to keep it private.

"Thing's been going good then?"

Sully nodded. "Yeah…things are fine…listen, Daniel, I'm gonna go for a walk, but I'll see ya later…"

Daniel nodded, understanding. "Sure, Sully…see ya at dinner then…"

They clasped hands, before Sully turned and left the tent. Sully walked along the grounds of the base, thoughts wandering back to Colorado Springs, and his wife, who he never even said good-bye to…not verbally anyways. But Sully felt that no good-bye would ever be sufficient…al they would ever need was a glance or a simple touch, and they knew each other's inner most feelings. In these cases, words only seemed to complicate things.

Sully paused when he came to a small grove of Aspen trees by a babbling creek, which overlooked the distant Rocky Mountains. Couching down onto a large boulder, Sully took out the portrait in his pocket and gazed at it lovingly. It was a small picture of Michaela and him at their wedding. It seemed so ironic, how remembering such a happy day and time could cause a person to become so sad and remorseful.

Tearing his eyes away from the portrait, Sully looked back up at the mountains, knowing that Michaela was right at the roots of those majestic land forms. Sighing softly, Sully stood up and glanced back down once again at the picture. "I promised Michaela…I promised…I won't make you say good-bye…"

* * *

Well...I hope that answered a lot of your questions...Any other concerns? Comments? Reasons you want me to give up writing? Ok...but don't say I didn't warn you! hehe...ok, please review as always!

Penny


	3. Chapter 3: For the Love of Life

_**Chapter 3: For the Love of Life**_

The Maple floorboards creaked softly, as Michaela rocked back and forth in her rocking chair. Staring aimlessly at the golden valley surrounding her, Michaela's thoughts continued to dwell on that of her beloved. It had been three weeks since he had left her; three long, tortuous weeks of not waking up in his arms, of not kissing him good-bye each morning, of not being able to tell him how much she loved him.

So far, she had received three telegrams, saying where he was and that he was holding up, and of course how much he loved her and how he thought of her with every breath he took. Michaela had yet to send him the news of her pregnancy; for not only could she not find the words to explain herself, but she also had no place to send a letter to. Sully's regiment was constantly on the move, from town to town, and Michaela was at a loss of how to get word to him.

Today, however, Michaela sat on the porch of the homestead, paper and pencil in hand, determined to write this letter to Sully. Her stomach was already beginning to expand slightly, and it would only be a matter of weeks before the rest of the town knew of her condition. Michaela had made Dorothy promise to not mention her pregnancy to anyone, as she wanted Sully to know before the rest of the town did. But secrets didn't stay secrets for too long in a bustling town like Colorado Springs, or any other town for that matter.

Michaela stared blankly at the pad of paper in her hands, words running through her head, as she tried to decide how to tell Sully that he was expecting a child. Sighing deeply, Michaela rubbed her eyes with distress, and was about to give up, when a light breeze flew by, bring with it the distant sound of a wagon clattering down the road. Leaving the writing utensil and paper on her seat, Michaela stood and walked down the porch, eager to greet whatever visitor might be coming.

As the wagon made its way around the bend, Michaela instantly recognized it to be the Cooper's, making there way towards her homestead. "Good afternoon, Charlotte! What brings you out here? Is something wrong in town…?"

Charlotte shook her head as she let her son, Matthew help her down from the wagon, along with his brother and sister. "Nah, just coming to see how you're holding up actually…"

Michaela smiled, grateful for Charlotte's friendship to her. "I'm…hold up…" Michaela shrugged, being completely honest.

Charlotte immediately sensed that the young woman needed a heart to heart discussion about whatever it was on her mind. "Children, why don't you go and play out in the field or down by the creek, I'll call you when we're ready…"

The two younger children nodded and scurried off, Matthew however stayed behind. "Dr. Mike, do ya want me to look in on your animals for ya?"

"Oh, Matthew, thank you, but you really don't have to…" Michaela said, in awe by the young man's kindness.

"No I really don't mind…"

"Well, if you insist…I know Flash is in dire need of a good brushing…thank you, Matthew!" The young man tipped his hat and went into the barn to care for the animals, Michaela stared after him.

"You've raised him to be such a gentleman, Charlotte…all by yourself…I don't know how you did it!" Michaela said with awe, as she turned back to Charlotte.

"He's a good kid…I was so afraid when his father left us, that Matthew would take the anger and pain out on the rest of the world…but he was so sting…and he really gave me strength…" Charlotte reminisced on the past.

Breaking from her reverie, Charlotte suddenly began looking Michaela up and down. "…Speaking of children…Michaela, were you and Sully planning on having any children of your own, before he left?"

Michaela paled, and her eyes flew down to her shoes which dug into the dusty drive. "Oh…well, um…we…we were, but…"

Charlotte smiled at the blush that was slowly creeping onto Michaela's cheeks. "Michaela…don't you remember how I was this towns only midwife before you became the doctor…"

Michaela looked up, guiltily at Charlotte.

"…After all the pregnant woman I've seen in my day, do you honestly think you could hide a piece of news like that from me?" Charlotte chuckled.

Michaela smiled slightly, seeing that she was caught. However, her smile soon turned into a frown as nervousness took over. "Am I really that obvious…I mean does the rest of the town…"

Charlotte laughed and shook her head. "No, no, Michaela…no one's gossipin' yet…you being so petite is keeping it like that…but if you're waiting to tell someone, I'd be hurryin' it up if I was you…"

Michaela bit her lip, and looked at Charlotte with puzzlement. "How…how did you know I haven't told…"

"Because I know your heart…I know you didn't want to hurt him on his last day with ya…but Michaela, you're only gonna break his heart more, the longer ya wait to tell him…" Michaela nodded knowingly, as Charlotte went to the back of the wagon and picked up a large wicker basket. "Now, how about you and me head to the kitchen and get started on dinner…"

Michaela looked from Charlotte to the basket and back to Charlotte, completely confused. "Dinner…oh Charlotte you shouldn't have…"

But Charlotte raised her hand to silence Michaela. "Nope…Sully made me promise before he left that I would keep my eye on you…make sure you didn't run yourself into the ground or nothing…and I'm not one to break promises!"

Michaela smiled and shook her head, deciding that she might as well give in now. Charlotte was just as stubborn as she was, but she as also order and wiser. Linking arms with her dear friend, Michaela and Charlotte walked into the homestead to begin preparing dinner.

* * *

The fire crackled welcomingly in its place as Michaela sulked down into one of the arm chairs. Dinner had been wonderful, as it always was when Charlotte made it, and the company of the Coopers had been more than welcomed. After eating burnt biscuits in silence for the past three weeks, this dinner had been heavenly for Michaela. Once the children has helped finish with the dishes, Charlotte decided that they'd best be getting home. Now, Michaela was left alone, with nothing but her own thoughts and memories to keep her occupied.

Staring into the flames, Michaela recalled the many nights Sully had sat with her down here, neither saying anything. Both just sat in silence, grasping each other's hand or holding and rocking the other softly. It was all so peaceful, so heavenly, and Michaela chastised herself for not appreciating it more when she had that opportunity. Looking back at her empty hands, which fidgeted lightly with the loose thread in her skirt, Michaela knew what she had to do. She knew it was either now or never. Picking up the pencil and pad of paper, which lay on the end table next to her, Michaela took in a deep breath and began to write.

* * *

The rain pelted down onto the roof of the canvas tent, as Sully lay on his cot, fingering with an envelope he had just received from Michaela. He was almost afraid to open it, afraid that he would not be able to stay strong for much longer. But he could feel the weight of the letter, and he knew it had been very difficult for Michaela to write to him. Slicing the top of the envelope with his pocket knife, Sully pulled out the letter. It was the scent that first hit him…her wonderful scent which clung to the paper. Basking in the overwhelming force of her scent, Sully slowly opened the letter and began to read…

_My dearest Sully…_

* * *

Michaela sat at her vanity, letting her emotions spill out onto the paper…

…_What do I say in such a letter…oh but there is so much to say, I really don't know where to begin…I suppose I'll start by telling you how much I love you, Sully, if there was a quantity, but my love for you is so unlimited. You've created so many joys for me, you've made me so, so happy…you've created a new life for…Sully, you created a new life in me. I have something very special to tell you, Sully…but it should never have been told in a letter. Sully, I'm pregnant…_

* * *

Sully's face became completely white, and the letter nearly fell from his hands as he read. "A…a baby…" he breathed.

"Hey Sully, you feeling alright?" Daniel asked, when he noticed his friends pale complexion.

Sully looked up from the letter. "Yeah…yeah, I'm fine…wonderful…"

Daniel nodded, not believing Sully for a second. "Then why do you look paler than a ghost?"

Sully looked up from the letter again, trying to put his emotions in order, but they were so scattered and overpowering, he just told Daniel it plain and simple. "I'm…I'm gonna be a father!"

Daniel smiled and gave Sully a firm pat on the back. "Congratulations there, Sully! That is what you always wanted, a family, right?"

Sully didn't miss a beat this time. "Of course…it's been our dream…"

"But…" Daniel added, seeing the tension in Sully's form.

Taking a deep breath, Sully let go of the thoughts he held. "I suppose, I was suppose to be there when we had the family…"

Daniel nodded. "I'm sorry Sully…" With that, he walked away, knowing Sully needed some time to be alone.

Sully's eyes returned to the letter, and he continued to read the remainder of it.

* * *

"There, I said it!" Michaela breathed and sighed, happy to be over the most difficult part. Focusing back onto the paper, she knew there was more to be said. And it was this part, that she was most afraid of…

…_what's more is that I've known about this since the day before you left. I'm so sorry, but I was so afraid that it would only hurt you more to leave, knowing that you would also be leaving a child. I wouldn't blame you if you were upset with me, and I'm so sorry I wasn't strong enough to tell you. I hope you can forgive me for that._

_I love you Sully, and only think of you when I breathe…_

_All my love,_

_Your Michaela_

A single tear rolled down her cheek and onto the paper, just below her signature. "There…I did it…"

* * *

Sully sat, tears making their way to his own eyes as he read of Michaela's decision not to tell him. Although he wished dearly that he had know before he left, Sully understood, whole-heartedly, the reasons for Michaela's choice. Bringing the letter up to his face, he allowed her sweet scent to smother him once again, before he folded up the letter and placed it in his breast-pocket. Bringing out his picture of Michaela, he gazed at it lovingly, while dreams of his son or daughter played in his mind. As the rain continued to pound on the tent, Sully felt his eyes begin to droop, and he let out a soft sigh. "I promise you, Michaela…" With that, Sully drifted off into a dream filled sleep.

* * *

_Well...I do hope you liked that chapter! Thank you so much to the people who have been leaving reviews both here and at the forum...I REALLY appreciate it! Please continue totell me what you think of it!_

_Penny_


	4. Chapter 4: Solitude

_Ok I am going to put up a small warning. There is one point in this chapter where a scene of the aftermath of a battle is described. It is not particularly vivid or disgusting, but it does discuss a rather awful experience.If such scenes offend you, somehow, I do suggest that you refrain from readingit! Although this part of the chapter could be skipped, I warn you now that many more like it will follow in upcoming chapters...just a warning! _

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* * *

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**Chapter 4: Solitude**

Her shoes tapped softly on the wood as she moved quickly across the examination room. Pausing briefly at the window pane, Michaela gazed out towards the telegraph office, searching for any sign of change. Much to her dismay, Michaela found Horace in the same position; sitting lazily at his desk, awaiting the arrival of a telegram or customer.

Sighing softly, Michaela made her way back to her desk to examine the ensuing stack of patient charts. Rubbing her temples lightly with her fingertips, Michaela began the tedious task at hand. "Widow Johnson…came in yesterday with no complaints of any joint ache…" Michaela whispered to herself as she wrote. "Therefore…we can assume….we can assume…um…" Michaela's eyes drifted from the paper as her mind left the task as well.

More and more with each passing day, it seemed, Michaela found herself unable to focus or perform simple tasks. She constantly chastised herself for daydreaming; however she had to admit that her inability to concentrate did come with reason. Sully had yet to respond to her previous letter, informing him of her pregnancy; and after four weeks of waiting, Michaela's nervousness for the situation had only heightened.

"I suppose he is right to be upset with me…" Michaela mumbled to herself, as she lagged back into her seat and her hands found themselves resting comfortably on her abdomen. "…after all, I did lie to him…I did tell him nothing was wrong…" Tears and angst made their way back into Michaela's gaze as she stared across the room, seeing everything and nothing.

A rapid knock at the door startled Michaela from her reverie. Attempting to compose herself, Michaela found her voice and called out from her position behind the desk. "Come in!"

Without further ado, the door opened to reveal a rather excited Horace. "Dr. Mike…this just came for ya…" Horace rushed across the room to her, as he brought forth an envelope. "…think it's what ya've been expectin'!"

Michaela smiled and took the letter from Horace's outstretched hand. "Thank you, Horace…"

Horace nodded and turned to leave. "Hope it's good news!"

Michaela merely nodded as she stared, mesmerized by the envelope in her hands. Not even noticing Horace's departure, Michaela sat back down in her seat, never taking her eyes off of the letter, as if she feared it might disappear or crumble away and become lost to her. Fingering the rough sealing, Michaela became overwhelmed with fear and angst, as thoughts and images of Sully's possible anger erupted into her mind. Biting her lip, Michaela forced the sealed paper apart to open the envelope. With trembling hands, Michaela slowly reached and grasped the letter from within. Heart pounding and breath quickening, she unfolded the letter and began to read…

_My beautiful Heartsong,_

_I'm so sorry I haven't written sooner. We've been on the go for the past three weeks and have barely had enough time to rest. But my love, how could you ever think that I would be upset with you for that? I love you…God Michaela I love you, and I'm just so sorry I couldn't be there for you right now…_

* * *

"… I should be there for you…" Sully thought out loud, before he continued on with his letter. "…But I'm stuck in this god damn war, fighting on a side that's…that's…"

…_This letter will take a week just to get to you. Michaela I want you to take things easy, reduce the amount of time you're working and remember to eat. I'd never forgive myself if anything were ever to happen to you. And don't you worry yourself over me; we haven't even engaged in battle yet. We've just looked on from afar…_

Sully paused, remembering the sight of it all; images still fresh in his mind from the day before…

* * *

**_Battle of Antietam (September 16, 1862 – Sharpsburg, Maryland)_**

The sky was a rusty-pink as dawn slowly approached over the Maryland forest. Hazy dew blanketed the ground, which crackled under the marching feet of the Union soldiers. Sully marched on as one of them, thinking not of what they might encounter, only of what he had left so many miles behind. A sudden order to halt shook Sully from his daze as the constant marching ceased for a moment. Up ahead, he could hear the low conversing of officers, debating over something he could not quite make out.

"What do ya think is going on?" Daniel whispered to Sully. Sully shook his head and said nothing.

BOOM! The distant sound of cannon fire erupted into the forest, causing everyone to jump from their relaxed positions.

"What in the name of…were we supposed to be marching into battle?" Daniel spoke the question everyone was curious to know.

Sully glanced over at his friend. "It's war Dan, what else do you expect?" With that, Sully turned to face forward, awaiting orders as the young men around him conversed in nervous chatter. Suddenly, a horseman came galloping out of nowhere, as he rushed past the troops, and toward the commanding officers. The horseman's arrival set off a new spur of conversation between the soldiers. Sully remained quiet, as he separated himself from the rest of the troops. Leaning up against the truck on an oak tree, Sully brought out his picture of Michaela, and stared at it longingly.

"I'm gonna get through this Michaela…I promised you…I'll get back to you…" Sully muttered under his breath.

The nervous chatter, which now filled the alcove around them, suddenly ceased as a bellowing voice could be heard from ahead. Sully, immediately recognizing the voice, folded his picture carefully and placed it back in his breast pocket, before he stood up straight for orders.

"Soldiers of the west…I welcome you into my regiment…you will now be serving in Maine's 20th regiment, under my command…I am Lieutenant Colonel Joshua Chamberlain." There was a dead silence which overwhelmed the soldiers as they discovered who the man before them was. However, the silence was interrupted by the distance echoes of gun fire and cannons.

Chamberlain, sensing the increased nervousness of his men, took a deep breath before he continued. "Yes, there is a battle being fought just as we speak. It is not two miles from where we stand now, near Antietam Creek. We were ordered earlier this week to march to this location, and in the event of a battle, we were supposed to engage. However, I have just received new orders from Major General McClellan, and he wants us to keep our distance and look on from afar."

The surrounding bunch of soldiers suddenly felt a great weight lifted from their shoulders; however, Chamberlain noticed their relaxation and continued his speech. "But I must warn you! We must always be on our guard and ready to form whatever attack General McClellan might order. We may still engage in this battle! The rest of this regiment is camped about a mile up this road. We'll be stationed there until further orders are given." With that, Chamberlain turned and mounted his horse, before whispering something to the horseman and heading off down the worn path.

The soldiers were left speechless, until the horseman rode past them again in a rush and was out of sight in a matter of seconds. Sully, deciding to silently lead this bunch of young men, began to walk down the path that Chamberlain had disappeared down. The soldiers quickly took Sully's lead and followed down the path as the quaking of the earth under gun and cannon fire increased with each step.

Upon arriving at the site, the soldiers quickly unpacked and assembled the various tents. After his job of setting camp was complete, Sully snuck away to walk though the trees alone. Finding a near-by alcove, Sully sat down on an old tree stump listened to the sounds of nature mix with the close rumblings of war. To the eye, everything appeared so peaceful and beautiful here. But Sully was not deaf to the constant thunders from behind him, and it ruined the beautiful scene of nature surrounding him.

Reaching into his pocket, Sully brought forth his book by Emerson which Michaela had given to him last Christmas. Slowly, his worries and anxiousness for Michaela dulled slightly as he became absorbed into the book. Hours passed without recollection and Sully did not even notice the snap of a twig as a foot fell on top of it.

"I hope that is a good book, Lieutenant Sully!"

Sully, surprised by the abruptness of the interruption, dropped the book and stood quickly, turning to see who had caught him in such a state.

"Calm down, soldier…" Chamberlain chuckled at Sully's reaction. "So, you prefer the life of solitude as well, I see?"

Catching his breath as he recovered from his shock, Sully nodded and collected himself. "Yes sir…I…I just was looking for some quiet…"

"It's fine lad…no need for explanation…I find it odd how you can call this quiet…but I suppose quiet takes an entirely different meaning once you enter the war…as do other things…"

Sully nodded, not sure of how to respond to his commanding officer.

"…Well, I just came out for a walk myself…but I'll leave you to your reading, however I do suggest you keep a warier eye out…although it's nearly supper time, there is the possibility of our need for engagement…" Chamberlain turned and started back towards camp, but paused and spoke over his shoulder. "There's a wonderful essay by Emerson, I believe he called it "Self-Reliance"…"

"Yes, sir…I just finished reading it…"

Chamberlain nodded. "Yes…how does it go…? 'It is easy in the world to live after the world's opinion; it is easy in solitude to live after our own; but the great man is he who in the midst of the crowd keeps with perfect sweetness the independence of solitude'…"

Sully nodded and watched Chamberlain walk back towards camp without another word. Looking back down at the fallen book, Sully picked it up and marked the page he had been reading with a long, blade of grass. Leaving his own place of solitude, Sully followed in Chamberlain's path, back towards the camp, back towards the constant rumblings of gunfire.

Finally as the sky began to darken into a deep indigo, the gun fire slowed until it ceased to sound. After a half and hour of waiting with growing concern, the word spread that General Lee had withdrawn and McClellan had won. Shouts of celebration erupted from the campsite, but were quickly hushed by Chamberlain, who brought his men to order immediately. "Soldiers of Maine's 20th regiment…while this victory is looked upon with great happiness, we will not be celebrating just yet. It is now our duty to bury the dead…it is calculated that about 23,000 soldiers died in this battle…now lets carry out!"

Trudging through the dark fields of Sharpsburg, the young men searched the battle field for the dead bodies of their fellow Union soldiers. Pausing by the edge of a creek, Sully found a small group of young boys, who couldn't have been older that 15, laying spread eagle in the mud, each still grasping their rifles firmly in one hand. On the other side of the river, lay similar bodies, belonging to that of the Confederate army. The site sickened Sully, to the point that he was forced to withdraw for a moment in order to collect himself. Pushing himself forward, Sully, with the help of Daniel and a few other soldiers, buried the bodies of the Union boys farther up the hill.

As they came from burying the final boy, Sully started back down the hill, towards the stream. "Sully, where are you going?" Daniel called.

Sully looked back. "There are some other boys, across the stream…"

Daniel walked towards Sully, shaking his head. "Don't tell me you're talking about them Confederate boys!" When Sully nodded Daniel sighed heavily. "Sully, we don't bury their soldiers and they don't bury ours…"

"But they're just boys, and they might not be found by the Confederates, they're so far away from the rest of their regiment…" Sully argued.

"Sully, it just isn't done... now come one, lets get some sleep…"

Sully paused and glanced back down towards the banks of the stream. Deciding he didn't have much of a choice, Sully nodded and followed Daniel back up towards their camp; the pictures of the dead soldiers still vividly assembled in his mind.

* * *

Sully felt himself trembling as he relived the evening's events. Looking down at his half written letter, he yearned to tell Michaela his thoughts and concerns about what he had been through. But he couldn't risk Michaela worrying about him too much…

_...we won that battle, luckily; but we also lost a lot of men. I just hope this war can be over so that the killing will stop, so that I can see your beautiful face again and our beautiful baby…I love you, Michaela, with all of my heart. Please take care of yourself._

_You have my heart and my soul…_

_All my love,_

_Sully _

* * *

Tears fell lightly from Michaela's eyes as she read the letter, sensing the pain and angst behind each word. Somehow, she knew he wasn't telling her everything. Somehow she knew he was feeling something more than what he wrote of. But what was she to do? Folding the letter back up, Michaela held it close to her chest, smelling the wilderness and his scent flowing off of the letter. As she inhaled the various fragrances, Michaela found herself staring out the window, as her mind wondered to Sully and the distant battles she could not protect him from.

* * *

_Well, there ya have it folks...the beginning of the tragedy of war...it wasn't that bad was it? Well, I hope it was ok...I hope I didn't loose anyone along the way! Oh just a quick pointer, everything with the Battle of Antietam is completely true...as I plan to do with all of CWM...Well, I do hope you liked it! More soon to come! PLEASE REVIEW!_

_Penny_


	5. Chapter 5: Cold Metal

**Chapter 5: Cold Metal**

_**Silence…**_

"_**Where is it?"**_

"_**I'm sorry…"**_

"_**Why can't I hear it?"**_

"…_**I…"**_

"_**Where is the scream…where is the second cry?"**_

_**Words failed and silence deafened…**_

* * *

Sunbeams filtered in through the lace curtains and danced merrily across her sleeping form. The long, harmonious tones of a song bird's melody drifted from the branches of a forest tree, into the silence of the bedchamber; eagerly beckoning it master to rise. Sensing the lateness of the hour, Michaela's eyes fluttered open. Squinting to adjust to the light, Michaela rolled onto her opposite side, only to find the place before her bare and the occupant missing. 

Sighing softly, Michaela stroked the cold pillow, which lay untenanted beside her.

_How many more? How many more mornings must I wake to alone? When will I be able to sleep in your arms and wake to realize that it is no dream? Is it even sensible to hope for such a miracle_? Michaela thought to herself, as she plucked at a loose thread in the comforter.

A smile crept across her lips as she thought aloud. "…But since when has life been logical…" Michaela stared off into space, remembering Sully saying those words to her when she dealt with a particularly difficult medical case.

Taking in a deep breath, Michaela rose from her place on the bed, with a little more difficulty than usual. Walking towards her vanity, she glanced into the mirror noticing through her night gown the slight bump that extended from her once flat stomach. Caressing her abdomen with her finger, Michaela's thoughts drifted once again to Sully, wishing it was his hands on her stomach, wishing it was his face she woke to every morning, instead of the dreary, tired one that glared at her every time she looked in the mirror. _His hands, his face, his lips, his touch…his mere presence…that was all I asked for…that's all I dream of_…

Michaela continued to stare in the mirror for several more minutes, imagining her husband's company. Suddenly the distant cry of a hawk awakened Michaela from her reverie. Looking back into the mirror she saw only herself. Alone. Another dream failing to come true…

Closing her eyes to shut out the world around her and conceal the fast flowing tears that threatened to break loose, Michaela swallowed hard, attempting to rid her throat of the lump that precluded her breathing. Gasping for breath, she composed herself and hid away the broken hearted emotions from the eyes of the world.

"What's done is done…crying isn't going to bring him home…" Michaela looked down at her rounded stomach and rubbed it tenderly. "…it can only cause worse things…it can only lead to more pain…" With those few words leading her focus, Michaela began to ready herself for work.

---- --- ----

"Now I want you to rest that arm Brian…it's only a fracture, luckily, but it can break very easily if you're not careful!" Michaela said sternly. Her seriousness, however, was soon broken with a wide smile, not being able to resist to the adorable boy's innocent look.

"Don't worry Dr. Mike…I'll make sure he doesn't get into anymore mischief…" Charlotte smiled as well, as she helped her youngest son off the examination table. "…won't be easy though! Brian what do you say to Dr. Mike?"

"Thank ya, Dr. Mike…Ma, can I go show the guys at school my sling?" Brian asked eagerly.

Charlotte's smile broadened. "Yes, but be careful; and walk, don't run…don't need you trippin'! Remember what Dr. Mike just told ya?"

But Brian was already half way out the door, and they never heard the child's response.

Chuckling softly, Michaela turned to Charlotte. "He's grown so much since I've been here."

Charlotte sighed. "They're all growing faster than a corn stock…"

Michaela nodded. "And you…how are you feeling, Charlotte?"

Charlotte's smile broadened even more so. "Oh Dr. Mike, the bones are old and movin' a bit slower…but I'm doing fine, livin' each day, one step at a time…"

"Yes…that sounds very familiar…" Michaela breathed as her smile faded.

Charlotte looked the young woman standing beside her up and down. "What about you? How are you holding up?"

"I'm…doing as well as can be expected...like you said, taking it one step at a time."

"It's all you can do…" Charlotte replied, knowingly. "But you're doing alright? Ya know if ya ever need anything, I'm just a holler away!"

The smile returned to Michaela's lips. "Thank you Charlotte…I appreciate it, more than you could ever know."

"Hey, I did make a promise…and one part of that promise included me makin' sure that you don't work yourself too hard. So why don't you join Brian and me for some lunch over at Grace's?"

Just as Michaela was about to decline the offer and insist that she had far too much work to do, her stomach rumbled loudly speaking for her.

"Well, I take that as a yes…come on, let's grab that closed sign and head out…" Charlotte persisted.

Sensing her loss, Michaela obliged and placed the closed sign upon the door on her way out of the clinic. Shawl wrapped tightly around her shoulders to block out the October chill, Michaela walked briskly across the street with Charlotte.

"How ya doin' folks?" Grace greeted the pair when they arrived at her café.

"I'm doing good, you'll have to excuse me though, I have to retrieve my son…" Charlotte said cheerfully before heading off in the direction of the school house.

Grace then turned to Michaela. "And what about you Dr. Mike, how are holding up?"

"I'm doing well, thank you. And you?" Michaela replied as she sat down at the closest table.

"Well, with business pickin' up like it is, it's been pretty busy. But I'm managing…how's the little one?" Grace gestured to Michaela's stomach.

Michaela smiled, and her hand instinctively found its place upon her abdomen. "It's fine…actually the doctor from Denver, Dr. Bernard, is passing through here next week and I have an appointment to make sure everything is progressing smoothly…"

"Well that should be…" Grace began, before Horace's distant calls interrupted their conversation.

"Dr. Mike! Dr. Mike!"

Michaela stood quickly as Horace ran towards her. "What it is Horace, what happened, is someone hurt?"

Horace shook his head and looked down at his hands where he clutched a newspaper. "Well no, but…but…"

"What is it Horace?" Michaela pushed.

"This just came from Denver…" Horace said as he handed her the newspaper hesitantly.

Taking the paper from his hands, Michaela slowly opened it, afraid of what she might find. As she gazed down at the text of the front page, Michaela's heart froze momentarily and her face flushed to a ghost-white.

"Dr. Mike what does it say?" Grace urged.

Taking in a shaky breath, Michaela read the headline aloud. "A Union Victory at South Mountain Costs 4500 Deaths"

"Well a union victory is good ain't it?" Loren interrupted from his seat at a near-by table.

Michaela nodded, yet tears continued to form in her eyes. Charlotte, who had just arrived with Brain, took the newspaper and continued to read out loud from where Michaela had stopped. "…Chamberlain's regiment withstands Lee's force in their first active engagement…"

A soft gasp passed through the crowd of people, when they realized what that meant or could mean. All eyes turned towards Michaela, who stood somberly, while a single tear ran unchecked down her cheek.

* * *

**Reconnaissance of the Battle of South Mountain (October 19th, 1862)**

Fear swept through him. There was no denying its presence. It was there, consuming and feeding on his sanity and energy. It thundered through him causing a shiver to ripple through his gut. The resound mixed with the detonation of canons, which spiraled across the sky above him, beside him, but not yet on him. And he thanked the spirits for his fortune thus far.

Reloading his rifle, Sully leaned back against the tree, his only source of protection. Reaching into his pocket for the bullets, he grasped the cold metal. _It's odd really, that a piece of metal so small and insignificant can cause so much death, so much pain, so much torture to man kind..._Sully thought to himself as his fingers fumbled over the chamber and he nearly dropped the bullets into the mud covered ground.

Steadying his trembling limb, Sully loaded the gun and repositioned himself behind the tree. His finger fit loosely around the trigger as he aimed at his target. Feeling the tension of the trigger against his pressure, he gripped the rifle firmly. Sweat mixed with dirt and forgotten tears glazed his face as he continued to stare at a young confederate soldier standing in perfect firing range of him. The young man was not aware of Sully's close presence and continued to stare away from his position.

"It's now or never…" Sully whispered before he preformed the action he so dearly hated. Pulling back on the trigger, the end of the rifle erupted in a small puff of smoke and the deadly piece of metal found its wings. Within seconds of the simple finger motion, the boy lay dead in the grassy area.

Sully's heart stopped for a moment when he realized the life he had just ended, and part of him wished it had been his life that ended; not the child's. But a strong rush of emotion spread through his veins when Michaela's smiling face flew into his mind. He knew in his heart he had to get back to her. "I promised you…" Sully whispered as he continued to stare mindlessly at the crumpled body of the young confederate officer.

His daze was suddenly interrupted by the call of his friend. "That was a nice shot Sully, but this ain't the time to be reveling in the feeling of victory!" Daniel shouted over the rumbling of cannons and gunfire.

Nodding slightly to show that he understood, Sully went back into his attack position behind the tree, his eyes searching for the enemy, but his heart filling with more and more disgust by the minute. The trigger was pulled again, and again, and again, until he lost count of shots. Again and again until he lost count of the deaths he had cause, the number of heart breaks, of loves shattered, of lives lost for this generation and the future ones. With each flying bullet came the overwhelming feeling of nausea and abhorrence; and when darkness fell upon the battle scene, Sully found himself kneeling over a pit, emptying his stomach into the dust.

As dusk approached the hills of Maryland, the constant rifle and cannon fire slowed until it ultimately halted all together. The cease of fighting, nearly went unnoticed to Sully whose head rung with the blasts of black powder and the eruptions of artillery.

"Sully…Sully what's going on?" He heard Daniel whisper from behind him.

Sully looked out across the hill, peering through the vast darkness of the pass, unable to distinguish anything. The sudden clatter of hooves startled Sully, and he whipped around to see who was coming. Recognizing the rider, a feeling of relief washed over Sully as he stood from his squatted position. "Colonel Chamberlain, sir…"

"Lieutenant Sully, this battle is over, Lee's army has retreated…"

Sully merely nodded, deciding not to participate in the celebrations preformed by the rest of his regiment. This reaction did not go unnoticed by Chamberlain.

"Soldiers of the 20th regiment of Maine…you know the drill…it may be a Union victory, but it was still a battle…and a loss of lives…carry out." Chamberlain ordered before adding, "Lieutenant Sully, walk with me."

Sully obliged, and followed Chamberlain as he walked away from the small Union trench. For quite some time they walked in silence, basking the simple sounds of nature, until Chamberlain finally spoke. "You don't want to be here, do you Mr. Sully?"

Sully hesitated at first, but then decided to go with the truth, "No sir, I don't."

Chamberlain nodded and remained quiet for a few moments before continuing. "Do you agree with the war, Mr. Sully?"

"That's an unfair question, sir. I don't agree with war in general…but do I think that African Americans should be free and should have equal rights, of course." Sully said with formality.

Chamberlain nodded again, as they continued to walk through the darkness. Suddenly he stopped, and paused by a fallen tree, gazing across at the area surrounding them. "I understand you views, Lieutenant Sully…I understand the feeling of regret and disgust you feel for killing another man…or even perhaps a youth…"

Sully nodded, yet remained quiet, sensing the Colonel's need to speak.

"On my way up here I saw him sitting there ... this boy of scarcely sixteen summers. His cap had fallen to the ground on one side, his hand on the other resting on his knee. It clasped a little testament opened to some familiar place. He wore the gray; this was my enemy - this boy! He was dead - the boy, my enemy; but I shall see him forever." Chamberlain proclaimed in a voice that shook slightly.

Sully looked upon his superior officer, seeing his humaneness. And while some would see only the weakness of choked tears, Sully found only respect and admiration for him. This was a man who knew the importance and gift of life. He saw the destruction that war caused on both sides, and he was, like Sully, sickened by it.

Taking in a slow, deep breath, Chamberlain turned back towards Sully. "Well, I believe we should aid the rest of the regiment in the burial…thank you Lieutenant…"

Sully nodded and watched as the Colonel walked past him, back towards the battle field. Staring up at the cloudless, night sky, Sully smiled as the stars shown on his face; reminding him of the gorgeous twinkle in Michaela's eyes. In the peaceful solitude of the forest, Sully found himself seriously considering running. Running from the death; running from the pain; running from the cold metal that broke hearts and spirits and minds. But something held him back...an unknown force that refused him his desire. So he returned, following the footsteps of his superior officer, praying to the spirits that his decision would be for the better.

* * *

_Well, I would most certainly appreciate any feed back from this chapter and even previous ones! Please! Thank you to allof you who continue to review!_

_Penny_


	6. Chapter 6: Time

**_Chapter 6: Time_**

Michaela stared ahead at everything and nothing; without thought or breath passing through her. _What if…_ such powerful, manipulative words. _What if…_They can wield a supremacy over your mind, until all sane thoughts have taken flight and you are left in a terrifying world that you, yourself have created; that only you, yourself are to blame for… _What if…_

"Michaela…" A distant voice called.

But Michaela was still in her fantasy of pain and possibilities, unable to break loose from their controlling chains. She was bound to that world, until finally the physical contact of a friend startled her from that frightful reverie.

"Michaela!" Charlotte spoke forcefully, while tenderly placing her hand on the young woman's shoulder.

"What!" Michaela jumped, speaking with a bit more edge to her voice than she had meant to. Seeing the look of slight shock which spread across Charlotte's face, Michaela let out a slow breath, attempting to calm the tormenting emotions which threatened to overwhelm her. "I'm sorry…what…what is it?"

Charlotte merely nodded her head towards Horace, who stood, hands trembling slightly, as they gripped a single piece of paper. "What…what is it Horace?" Michaela's voice shook violently, knowing what was to come, but pleading silently to God that her predictions could be wrong, just this once. Michaela, however, had always been known for her predictions and diagnostic talents…and this circumstance would be no different. "…Horace?"

Horace nodded awkwardly and looked down at the paper in his hands; physically weightless, yet emotionally profound. "I…I just received this list…I'm supposed to read it out loud for all to hear…"

"What's the list of?" Brian asked naively.

A few bystanders smiled sadly at the young child's innocence; but soon looks became grave again, as the small crowd's eyes met Horace's, who cowered slightly under their intense gazes. "It's…it is…it's a list of all the soldiers from the Colorado territory who…who…"

"Out with it!" Hank, who had just sauntered up to the crowd, exclaimed snidely.

Horace glared momentarily at Hank before looking back down at Michaela, who stood in front of him with pleading, knowledgeable eyes. Gulping down the lump which hung in his throat, Horace took the deep breath before the plunge. "It's a list of all the soldiers in the Colorado Territory, who were lost, wounded…or killed in battle."

A hush fell upon the crowd, as fear gripped at hearts and gnawed at souls. Michaela never broke eye contact with Horace, for fear that if she did, it would be the admittance of failure…something she could not bear, something she could not live with. Yet as she stared into those amber orbs, she saw a sadness that broke her heart. But there was more, those eyes held vagueness, a distance, something she could not quite pinpoint, something that was not directed towards her. Before Michaela could gaze more deeply into those eyes to make sense of it all, they darted away from her focus, towards the new arrival.

"Michaela, what in tarnation is going on? What's all the fuss about?" Dorothy said lightheartedly, not yet noticing the somber faces and tense atmosphere.

Michaela found that she was unable to speak, and she was forced to look towards Charlotte, silently begging for help.

"Dorothy…news from the last battle just came in…" Charlotte began.

"Oh, I heard a fellow say it was a Union victory…somewhere on the South Mountain in Maryland I heard…" Dorothy piped up, still not grasping the situation fully.

Charlotte nodded. "Yes, well…one of the commanding officers…was Chamberlain…"

Finally, at this moment, Dorothy's eyes grew wide with realization and worry. "Oh Michaela! Oh, my dear, I'm so sorry…do you know…?"

Michaela shook her head, still incapable of speech. Instead, Jake shouted from a near by table, "Well we were all about to find out until you came and interrupted!"

Dorothy's cheeks grew red from anger and humiliation. Michaela, who had had enough of Jake's recent uprisings, finally found her will to speak. "Be quiet Jake…Horace…please, what does it say?"

Horace looked briefly at Michaela before glancing across the rest of the crowd and finally nodding. "We regret to inform you of the following casualties as a result of battle: Sergeant C. F. Brown, died in battle; Fifth Sergeant James Castello, missing in action; Private John Curry, Died in battle; Private O. M. Harris, died in battle; Private J. Herbert, seriously injured…" Suddenly, Horace cut off, unable to go on. "…I…I…"

Jake, loosing patience stood and snapped the paper away from Horace to begin reading it aloud himself. "Lieutenant Thomas…" Jake's breath caught, and he looked up briefly before continuing in a much softer tone. "Lieutenant Thomas Jennings…died in battle…"

In the silence between the ill news and the shriek, all hearts stopped, all minds knew…

"NOOO!" Dorothy screamed. "NO! NOT MY BABY! NOT MY TOM!"

Michaela, pushing passed the lightheadedness she felt, turned to Dorothy, embracing her fully, soaking up her friends tears, which soon mingled with her own.

"No, no, no, no! It can't be! Oh Michaela, tell me it isn't true! No, not my Tom…not my dear boy!" Dorothy sobbed as she began to sink, her knees failing her.

Feeling Dorothy's weight lean more heavily on herself, Michaela found her own knees buckling and looked towards the surrounding men for help. "Hank! Help me, she's fainting!" Hank quickly stepped up and took Dorothy's limp body into his arms.

"Bring her to my clinic, and lay her down in one of the recovery rooms upstairs…"

"Ain't ya coming?" Hank asked, suspicious of Michaela's lack of reference to her own presence.

Michaela nodded. "I'll be along shortly, thank you Hank…"

Hank nodded, realizing that there may be more to the day's news. Grateful for his cooperation, Michaela turned back towards Jake, who had since continued to read off names of soldiers, none of which anyone knew. Luckily…

"…Sergeant George T. L. Robison, died in battle; Private James Ryan, seriously injured; Corporal J. R. Searcy, died in battle; Lieutenant Davis Tucker, Lost in battle…"

The rest was lost to Michaela. _His name wasn't called. He was alive, he was well_! Her Sully was not lost to her yet!

And then reality hit her. It was merely the first battle, yet it had already caused so much pain…and there would be no denying that the pain would only grow. In this war of fear and torment, the pain would never ebb.

Turning from the crowd, Michaela slowly made her way back to the clinic. Her mind was dazed, her heart heavy, and her soul was unable to take wing. Placing a loving hand over her abdomen, Michaela sighed softly, knowing that now was not the time to dwell on worries. Not when a friend was in need, a friend who had lost so much, while she had lost nothing except some of the hope she once had so much of. No, now was not the time…

* * *

**December 15th, 1862**

Michaela sat at her desk, pouring over various patient charts, trying to keep her mind off of the many tribulations. It had been almost two months now since the news of Tom's death had been announced, and things had only gone from bad to worse. Upon hearing the news of Tom's death, Marcus had left town without any word of his whereabouts or if he would ever return. Thus, Dorothy was left penniless, alone, and in a severe state of depression. As hard as Michaela tried, Dorothy refused to communicate with her or anyone else; instead, she lay in the recovery room, day in and day out, barely eating, never seeing the light of day.

With each passing day, Michaela's fear for her friend mounted as did her fear for Sully's well being. She had received only a few letters from Sully, and with each one, the writing became shorter and less heart felt. Her heart sank with each sentence, as Michaela watched the war deteriorate his mind and will to keep going. Yet he always ended each letter with his promise, so that she would never doubt it. But as the days progressed and fear grew, her hope depreciated, and it would only be a matter of time before it would run thin.

Tears welled in her eyes as they had so often recently, causing her vision to blur and humiliation for visual emotion to overwhelm her. Throwing down the wooden pencil, Michaela sank back into the chair, shaking her head with misery and sorrow. "I have no reason to feel so pitiful…I haven't lost him yet…he'll come back…he'll come back, I know he will! He promised…"

A sudden knock at the door shook Michaela from her daze. Clearing her throat, Michaela quickly wiped her face off with her apron, trying to regain at least some of her composure. "Yes, come in!"

The door swung open to reveal an elderly gentleman, wearing a traveling suit and gray bowler hat. "Good afternoon, Dr. Quinn…"

Michaela gasped, abhorred by her forgetfulness. "Dr. Bernard...oh I'm so sorry I didn't meet you at the station, I didn't realize…"

"No need for an apology…it's normal during the months of pregnancy to forget a thing or two, especially with everything you have on your plate. Have you been resting?" Dr. Bernard questioned as he walked into the clinic, shutting the door behind him.

"As…as much as I can." Michaela answered truthfully. As hard as she tried though, the sleep never seemed to come. Many a night, Michaela would find herself having to walk around the perimeter of the homestead, attempting to will herself into a dreamless sleep. But no such sleep was ever granted to her, for it was but a wish and dream, and it had been many months since any of Michaela's dreams had come true.

"Good, good...just keep resting as much as possible…take naps during the day…" Dr. Bernard carried on as he set out the supplies for the examination, while Michaela readied herself behind the screen.

---- ---- ----

"Dr. Bernard…please is something wrong with the baby? Please I have to know!" Michaela pleaded as she sat upon her own examination table.

Dr. Bernard merely shook his head as he continued to pack up his supplies. "There's nothing wrong, you all seem in perfect health…"

"Then why are you acting…wait…" Michaela paused, clearly taking in each of the doctor's words carefully and precisely. "…what do you mean…all…"

Dr. Bernard placed his medical bag on the desk and rotated to face the endearing mother-to-be. "What do you think I meant, Dr. Quinn?"

For the first time in weeks, a smile played with Michaela's lips as the possibility lifted her spirit to new heights. "You mean…there's more than one?"

Dr. Bernard smiled broadly, and nodded. "Yes, you seem to be expecting twins."

Michaela's face lit up as it hadn't in so long, and a rush of happiness flowed through her body, empowering her hope and will. "Oh, Dr. Bernard…thank you so much!"

"Now you know the risks are greater, Dr. Quinn with multiple children, you must rest! I must impress the importance to you, for both the children and your own safety."

Michaela nodded, knowingly. "Yes Dr. Bernard, I …"

But she was cut off by the spontaneous swinging open of the clinic door. "Horace!" Michaela exclaimed as Horace came barreling through the door, trying to catch his breath. "What're wrong?" Michaela slid from the examination table.

"I…I…" Horace attempted to speak awhile heaving in and out in deep, heavy breaths.

"Relax Horace, now tell me what is wrong?" Michaela pushed again, glancing over at Dr. Bernard, who stood at the edge of the room, watching the entire scenario unfold.

"He…here…this just…came for ya…" Horace stuttered as he handed Michaela a slightly crumpled piece of paper.

After a quick glance at Horace's fearful face, Michaela gazed down at the slip held gently by her finger tips, slowly reading the message…

_Dear Mrs. Sully. We regret to inform you that your husband, Lieutenant Byron Sully, has been shot in action…_

Failing to read the rest of the message, Michaela felt her knees buckle as she watched the small bit of paper float from her hands to the ground.

_He was shot…no, not my Sully…no…_ "NO!" Michaela cried out before everything went black.

* * *

_Oh my goodness...ok...please leave reviews...yep...it's getting interesting huh!_

_Penny_


	7. Chapter 7: Hope Fades

**_Chapter 7: Hope Fades_**

**December 13th, 1862: Fredericksburg**

The rising darkness behind his eyelids refused to serve its purpose of dulling the piercing ache which struck his temples. Failing to grow accustom to the constant eruptions of the earth and throbbing rhythm of gun shots, Sully's head seared with pain, blinding his vision, as well as his actions. Gripping the barrel of his rifle, Sully slowly opened his eyes, wincing at the brilliant light as lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the ominous blackened sky.

Pushing passed the searing pain Sully shifted in his crouched position, lifting his head a few inches to glance out of the mud-ridden trench

"Ya ok, Sully?" Daniel's voice came from beside him.

Realizing that a mere nodding of the head would be inadequate in the darkening conditions, Sully was forced to verbally respond. "Yeah…yeah, just a head ache…"

Daniel positioned himself closer to Sully in the tightly fit trench, allowing Sully to see his silhouette with every flash of lightning or distant explosion from cannons. "From the ruckus?" However, Sully failed to answer as another wave of pain and nausea swarmed him, and he was, instead, forced to nod into the darkness, hoping that Daniel would take notice of the movement.

Luckily he did. "Yeah…don't blame ya. And now with this storm blowing up…this battle is gonna be hell!" Daniel said with a small grin.

Sully stared at Daniel, amazed by his ability to find anything amusing in their perilous situation. Daniel had always been one to look on the bright side of things and find their silver lining; but in conditions as drastic as the ones they found themselves in now, Sully began to doubt his friend's sanity. However, he was not about to verbally address his query. Instead, Sully leaned back against the moist wall of the trench, and closed his eyes; listening to the distant echoes of bombarding cannons, deadly gunfire, and the occasional rumble of thunder from the blackened sky.

There he sat, among his regiment, waiting for the battle front to move in their direction. A frigid wind swept through the trench, notifying the soldiers of the arrival of the storm. As a flash of lightning split through the sky, rain began to drizzle down in a fine mist, silently soaking the regiment. Suddenly, the ground erupted into a crater as a cannon ball fell but fifty feet away from Sully's position. The battle had arrived…

Amidst the hurried ruckus of the troops preparing to fight, Sully remained where he sat momentarily, closing his eyes to silently pray to the spirits and whatever God might listen to his plea for survival. The spontaneous eruption of a second cannon shot falling far too close to the trenches, woke Sully from his daze. Grabbing his rifle, Sully rotated up onto his knees, as he peered through the barbed wire, searching for the enemy. His search was easily completed, as he looked across the field of no-mans-land towards the opposing trenches; where soldiers, much like himself, crouched behind mud walls, fearing for their life as he did his.

Another artic wind flew through the hostile trenches, causing a shiver to flow through each soldier, as if they had been touched by a breeze of death. Immediately following the polar wind, the drizzling mist spontaneously picked up to a downpour of freezing rain, leaving the soldiers with a fine layer of ice upon their cotton army jackets.

Minutes passed in silence as both sides sat in their battle positions, awaiting their commanding officer's orders to fire. The loud canter of horse hooves caused the soldiers to turn form the opposing side to see Chamberlain riding up to meet them.

"Keep you eyes ahead, boys!" Chamberlain shouted as he rode towards them. The soldiers turned away from Chamberlain, back towards the Confederate lines, cocking their guns to prepare for the orders to fire.

Moments continued to pass in utter silence, less the drumming of freezing rain upon the moist ground. Then, just as Sully finished one of his many silent prayers, he heard Chamberlain speak in little more than a breath. "It's time Lee; let us end this bloodshed…" Sighing softly, Chamberlain looked at his 20th Regiment up and down before belting out his orders. "Get ready men!" A minute of final preparation existed, and then a shout was uttered from behind and one far in the distance. "FIRE!"

And the battle of Fredericksburg had begun for Chamberlain's regiment.

Cannons fired, bullets flew, and blood seeped from hearts and dreams. Sully pulled the trigger again and again, now indifferent to the meaning that each bullet took with it.. Yet he hated himself for it, and this hate grew with each piece of cold metal that flew from the barrel of his rifle.

The battle raged on for hours, dusk slowly setting on the fireworks display of death. Shivering with cold and nausea, Sully and the rest of the regiment continued to fire against the mighty rivaling army. It soon became clear, however, that they were vastly outnumbered by Lee's army and the difference in size was only increasing with each passing minute. Suddenly, the Confederate lines ceased to fire, causing much confusion among Chamberlain's regiment.

"Cease fire!" Chamberlain called from behind them. Sully turned to look up at his superior officer, curious to know what was going on. Chamberlain, however, looked just as puzzled as Sully, who watched as Chamberlain squinted through the darkness, trying to decipher Lee's actions. Suddenly, the look of confusion was replaced with a look of terror and fear. Chamberlain knew what was going on.

"Stay alert, men! Prepare for an attack!" Chamberlain ordered before he mounted his horse and sped off towards the unit's headquarters.

The regiment was left in a state of complete confusion and fear, but they did as they were ordered. The minutes passed in a hush, and many soldiers began to wonder whether if Lee's army had simply gotten up and left without any word. Daniel, like many other soldiers had done, made to stand up and look out into the opposing side. Sully however, halted his actions, causing the bullet, which flew an inch above Daniel's head, to miss.

Shouts were heard from across the field followed by heavy gun fire. The 20th regiment quickly recollected themselves and began firing in retaliation. And the, they saw them…

Lee's army charged at Chamberlain's lines, with bayonets held high. Sully fired with the rest of the regiment again and again, yet the charge gained on them, spreading fear through out the trench. Then a distant call could be heard from behind the trench. Sully turned to see Chamberlain riding, with full force, up the beaten path, screaming some incoherent order.

"What's he saying?" Daniel shouted over the deafening gunfire.

At first Sully shook his head, clueless to what the commanding officer wanted. But then, sully saw his lips form to create the humiliating order. "FALL BACK! RETREAT!"

Grabbing his rifle, Sully began to crawl through the slick mud to get out of the trench. Finally making it to the other side, he looked back down into the trench to see Daniel, struggling to get out. In a momentary decision, Sully jumped back into the trench to aid Daniel in his retreat from the battle lines, forgetting his own safety, until it was too late to go back…BANG! He saw him fire. A shot that could not miss…his life flashed before his eyes as that cold peice of metal came barreling towards him. In the half moment before the impact, Michaela's face smiling flashed into his mind. And he knew it would be the last time he ever saw that face…

…and then it struck…

**

* * *

Colorado Springs: December 17th, 1862**

A scream pierced the silence of the night. Trembling as she rolled onto her side, Michaela clutched her stomach, pain searing through her body and soul.

The pain dulled momentarily, allowing Michaela to catch her breath. "No, no this can't be happening…no…not this…not now…" Suddenly she became mute as another sting rippled through her gut, precluding her ability to create a sound or draw breath. _No…no not this…no! God, NO! Sully, help me…._

Unable to contain her torment any longer, Michaela let her terror and pain flow out in a long stabbing cry. "SULLY!" But try as she might, her Sully did not come. Her Sully could not come. He was gone, lost, dead to her…

The sudden rustling of feet outside her room, startled Michaela, momentarily, before the pain took over all thoughts and emotions again. Moments later, her door swung open to reveal Charlotte, dawned in her nightgown and robe, rushing over to Michaela's bedside. "Oh blessed dear, is it the babe?" Charlotte asked, while a worried look crossed over her maternal face.

Michaela nodded, trying to catch her breath, but another stab of pain ripped through her before she had time to prepare for it, causing a shriek to be emitted from her trembling lips.

"MATTHEW!" Charlotte screamed for her oldest boy. "MATTHEW, GO GET DR. BERNARD!"

Matthew's footsteps could be heard, running down the stairs and out of the clinic. Michaela turned to Charlotte grasping her hand for comfort, both emotionally and physically. "Charlotte…"

"Shhhh, love…it will be alright…" Charlotte tried to calm the pregnant woman as she would her own child.

"Charlotte, you…you stayed here..." Michaela breathed, as the pain dulled slightly.

Charlotte smiled slightly. "Yes dear…I told you we would…"

Michaela shook her head. "You didn't…you didn't need to do that…"

"Well I think this turn of events certainly can rove that statement wrong!"

"Charlotte…" Michaela whispered.

"What is it dear?" Charlotte stroked the young woman's arm comfortingly.

"Charlotte…don't let it happen…" Michaela pleaded as tears spilled from her eyes again.

"Don't let what happen, Michaela?"

Michaela looked into Charlotte's deep, warm eyes; begging her silently. "Please….please don't let me loose these babies….don't let me loose Sully's children…"

Charlotte sighed, longing to take away the young doctor's pain and misery. "Oh darling…"

"Please Charlotte…they're all I have left..." Michaela cried.

"What about Sully, Michaela!" Charlotte reminded. "That letter only said…"

"But he won't survive this war!" Michaela interrupted. "I was a fool to think that he would…and even if he should survive it physically…it won't be Sully who returns…he'll be so different…"

"Ya mean ya won't love him when he gets back?" Charlotte said in a state of shock.

"No…no…I'm just afraid…I'm afraid…that he won't love me anymore…war does things to people…my father used to describe patients of his who fought in the war of 1812…they went mad! They would distance themselves from their loved ones, the ones they fought so hard to get back to….so many hearts were broken, even long after the war was over…oh Charlotte, that could be my Sully!" And with those last words, pain shot through her again, ripping her spirit and soul to shreds. Charlotte embraced the young woman, holding her tightly as the pain engulfed Michaela's body and mind.

* * *

_haha...yep...ok...closet time...please review though...it makes my life so much nicer knowing that people actually are reading and are either enjoying or not enjoying...yep...closet time.._

_Penny_


	8. Chapter 8: Through Shadows Falling

_**Chapter 8: Through Shadows Falling **_

_Gently, he stroked her dampened cheek, caressing the steadily blushing skin there. It had been so long, far too long…so much had happened, so many things had changed; including their dreams and hopes for the future. Relishing in the feeling of his hands upon her face, Michaela leaned in, awaiting that glorious, long awaited kiss…the one she had only dreamt of, for many a month._

_Closing in on her desire, Michaela suddenly felt him stiffen from beneath her, while his hand clenched into itself beside her cheek. Confused by his spontaneous and unexpected reaction, Michaela remained still; as she stared deep into those pale-blue orbs, attempting to capture his soul. But he turned his gaze away from her, and it was another moment before Michaela noticed that his hand had left her face and was retreating along with the rest of his body, away from her and into the vicinity of darkness and shadows._

_"No! Sully!" Michaela called for her beloved, while she watched her world crumble as the scream reverberated across the darkness, off of hidden walls. Though her scream pierced the night like the cry of a hawk, Sully continued to walk away, ignoring her pleading wails. _

_"Sully, please…please don't leave me!" Michaela bawled, her heat shattering like glass, as she witnessed her true love leaving her…breaking his promise from so long ago…I will love you all of my days…_

_Suddenly, the pain of her heart was dulled by the searing torture which erupted from her abdomen. "NOOO! SULLY, HELP ME!"_

_Finally, hearing the agony and anguish behind her screams, Sully paused and looked back over his shoulder, seeing his wife, his lover, his soul mate, crouched in a pain far worse than death, calling out for him, and only him. _

_In those moments, where the only sound was the lost, distant echoes of Michaela's screams incoherently reverberating across the shadows, their eyes met. And she saw it…Michaela saw in his eyes her worst fear… "You don't love me anymore…"_

_Without another word, Sully turned back away from Michaela and slipped into the eternal darkness. Heart splintered and body broken, Michaela kneeled, amidst the enclosing shadows, traumatized and in a state of utter disbelief, forgetting the pain that ripped at her gut. As the blackened surroundings became a vulgar red, Michaela felt herself sink into the colossal rouge, and she knew…_

_…she had lost her spirit…_

"NO! SULLY!" Michaela let out a shrill cry, as she bolted from her resting position upon the recovery bed.

"Shh…Dr. Mike, relax…relax, dear, it was just a dream…" Charlotte's comforting voice came from across the dimly lit room.

"A…a dream?" Michaela asked for confirmation with a shaking voice.

"Yes, dear…a dream…nothing more. Here, drink this." Charlotte walked towards Michaela's bed with a small cup of water in her outstretched hand.

Taking the cup with her trembling hands, Michaela nodded her thanks as she sipped slowly on the soothing liquid. Disjointed thoughts and recollections swirled aimlessly through her mind as Michaela attempted to sort reality from imaginative memories. A slight twinge in her stomach and the spontaneous recognition of where she was, caused the glass to slip from Michaela's violently tremulous hand, and crash onto the wooden floor; shattering the porcelain into thousands of tiny pieces.

"Oh, here let me get that…" Charlotte said, as she stooped to pick up the glass bits. Michaela, who failed to even recognize her accident, put her hand out to stop Charlotte and get her attention.

"The babies…Charlotte…what happened to…" But Michaela couldn't bring herself to finish; for the look upon Charlotte's face held a thousand words; none of which needed to be heard for the inevitable truth be known. "Oh God…no…no, no, no…it can't be…" Michaela whispered as tears welled in her eyes.

"Dr. Mike…wait…" Charlotte began.

"…No, I just can't…oh my God…I lost…I lost them…" Michaela whimpered as the tears began to flow steadily down her pale cheeks.

"Now Dr. Mike…" Charlotte tried again.

"…I lost Sully's children…I…I lost…"

"You didn't lose them, Michaela!" Charlotte spoke strongly, interrupting Michaela's wasteful cries.

Michaela's tears suddenly ceased, as she looked at the woman before her with a dumbstruck look planted upon her face. "What? What did you say?"

Charlotte let out a sigh before taking the young doctor's hands into her own. "Dr. Mike…we were able to save the babies…they're gonna be fine!" A gleam of hope and restoration crossed Michaela's face; however Charlotte remained serious as she continued in her instructed speech. "But Dr. Mike, ya got to stop pushing so hard. You're working harder than most of the men in this town, plus the stress from the war and Sully…ya got to cut your work load back…otherwise, ya might just lose your blessings…"

Michaela nodded, knowing that Charlotte was absolutely correct. She had pushed herself beyond limits that most women who weren't bearing children would allow for themselves. But her work kept her mind off of the other trials and tribulations in her life, like…

"Sully…Charlotte, what about…" Michaela began, but was cut short by Charlotte who raised her hand to silence the worried young woman.

"Sully is fine…while you were unconscious, the army sent another telegram…" Charlotte said as reached into her skirt pocket and withdrew a small piece of paper.

Michaela reached hesitantly for it, nervous for the precise details that it may hold about Sully and his well-being. Gripping the tattered parchment, Michaela brought it into her line of vision, squinting slightly to see the fine print.To be given to Mrs. Byron Sully as soon as possible:

**Dear Mrs. Sully,**

**We are aware that you were informed of your husband's, Lieutenant Byron Sully, casualty in the Battle of Fredericksburg. We are pleased to inform you that his current condition is stable. Due to your husband's full recovery and the growing fatality, your husband will honorably be returning to duty during the spring campaign. **

**General Meade, U.S. Army**

"That's it? That's…that's all they say? That he's stable?" Michaela sighed when she finished reading.

Charlotte could only shrug and shaker her head. "I'm sorry dear, but…"

"And because he happened to survive a fatal injury, he is sufficient to return to the battle field!" Michaela interrupted, not wanting to hear an excuse for the Army's course of actions. Nothing could excuse the numerous deaths and heartbreaks that had been a result of this war.

"Dr. Mike…" Charlotte tried to console again.

Michaela however put up her hands, one still clutching the telegram, halting Charlotte's actions. "No…stop…just, just leave me…"

"Now, Dr. Mike…"

"I want to be alone!" Michaela said a bit too harshly. Instantly realizing her overreaction, Michaela's features soften and she let out a soft breath before continuing. "Please, Charlotte…I, I just need to be by myself for a while. I need to collect my thoughts…"

Charlotte nodded, and turned for the door. "Of course Dr. Mike, I understand."

Michaela quickly reached for Charlotte's hand, stopping her momentarily. "Thank you Charlotte, for everything…it means more than you could ever know, having you as a friend…you've been here to pick me up, when I was in the lowest point of my life…thank you."

Charlotte smiled and nodded. "It's what friends are for…you get some rest now, Dr. Mike…I'll just be down stairs…"

Michaela nodded and let go of her dear friend's hand, watching her exit the room and close the door behind her. Staring aimlessly across the room, Michaela's thoughts dwelled on everything and nothing. The babies, Sully, the survival of all her loves, and the gratefulness she had for Charlotte and that friendship which she held so dear to her heart; everything swirling and spiraling until the whole mess of it all caused Michaela to become dizzy and a vague nausea to come over her.

Leaning back into the soft mattress, Michaela closed her eyes, attempting to get over the sudden wave of nausea. When the sickening feeling finally passed, she relaxed into the pillows of the recovery bed, resting her weary head of the tiring thoughts and emotions that continued to torment her.

Finally, Michaela was able to clear her mind of the tortuous sentiments, causing her eye lids to begin to droop. Just as she finally slipped into the semi-conscious state before sleep was to take her, she heard a distant thud, followed by a frantic cry.

"MA! MA! NO!"

Michaela bolted up from the bed, and rushed to the door, forgetting her own fatigue and wellness, as she heard the screams continue to beckon her.

"DR. MIKE! DR. MIKE! HELP!" Michaela instantly recognized the voice to be that of young Colleen's, hysterically pleading for her aid.

"I'm coming Colleen! I'm coming!" Michaela called as she carefully made her way down the hall, arriving at the top of the stairs. Ever so slowly, Michaela took each step at a time, aware of her shaking limbs. Suddenly a renewed cry from Colleen, caused Michaela to glance over the banister, seeing Charlotte laying spread eagle on the ground, with Colleen's trembling body cowering over her mother's.

"Oh dear God….Charlotte!" Michaela cried in little more than a breath. Still keeping her eyes peeled to Charlotte, Michaela continued with more speed down the stairs, forgetting her unstable condition. By the time she remembered, however, it was too late…Michaela soon experienced the exhilarating yet horrifying experience, of falling through the air, with nothing but the hard wooden floor to soften the landing.

* * *

A scream pierced the night, awakening Sully from his painful slumber. Rotating his head slightly to the left, he witnessed a gruesome and horrific sight. A young boy, no older that fifteen, sat up in his cot, clenching his teeth with of his trength, while he watched the doctors amputate his own leg. Sully cringed at the sight and looked away, feeling his stomach lurch as the boy failed to keep in his pain, and was forced to let out a blood curtling cry.

Looking now to his right, Sully watched as a nurse checked for a nameless soldier's heartbeat. The falling of a sheet over the man's head told Sully that there was no pulse to be found, and this thought twisted his stomach into even bigger knots. All he could think of was that this man, or the young lad could have just as ealily been him; for had he not lost his footing, the nearly fatal bullet was forced to miss his heart and instead hit his shoulder. Luckily for him, Daniel had been there to pull his unconscious remains from the trench and carried him to the safety of a hospital tent.

Sully later discovered that Daniel had fought bitterly with one of the operating physicians to ensure that they did not amputate his arm without attempting a removal of the bullet. Sully felt in great debt to Daniel, however Daniel insisted that Sully had saved his life first and that they were even.

Now Sully lay awake, listening to the agrivating cries that were spontaneously emitted from the young man beside him. The pain in his shoulder intensified as Sully attempted to adjust his position on the bed. Finding the process futile, Sully reached with his good arm towards the end table, where a few of his belongings lay. Wincing slightly, Sully pulled back the small, tattered portrait; instantly mesmorized by the image...his Michaela

Ever since his casualty, all Sully could think about was Michaela and her well-being. He was aware that the army would have sent her a notification of his shooting, and hopefully be followed up by news of his condition. However, Sully was also aware that such news would be incredably vague and would more than likely cause Michaela's worry to only increase.

Peering through the dinly lit tent, Sully searched for the paper and pencil he had requested nimerous times; each time recieving only a cold glare, and occasionally followed by curt words, such as "We have more dire dituations at hand, than getting you paper!" While Sully understood this perfectly, it did not help him overcome the feeling of uselessness for Michaela. After all, her anxiousness did affect the life of another.

Finally, Sully spotted a small pad of paper and a pencil, situated at the bottom of his cot. Breathing heavily to prepare his body for the painful motion, Sully slowly sat up, pain gripping his move. Reaching for the writing utensils, his fingers brushed over the pencil, before it finally gripped it as well as the pad. Letting out the breath he had been unknowingly holding, Sully sat back into the barely existant pillow, and began to write.

* * *

_Well, I'm sorry this is so late, things have been really crazy for me lately. I no longer have my blog, so if you could please leave reviews either at the forum or here, that would be much appreciated! I hope this chapter was ok, considering the time that you had to wait for it!_

_Penny_


	9. Chapter 9: Into a World of Night

**_Chapter 9: Into a World of Night_**

Michaela let out a weak cry as she soared through the air, falling closer and closer to the inevitable darkness; closer and closer towards those floor boards of death and heartbreak. Instinctively, Michaela felt her hands move out in front of her, hoping they might protect the lives at stake from the fearful impact. Closing her eyes, she waited for the crashing of her body into the cold, heartless ground; ending her hopes of a happy future…losing the dream she had created with Sully, all those months ago.

Yet the painful impact never came. Instead, Michaela felt the contact of two steady arms gripping her falling body, preventing a fatal disaster. Opening her eyes slowly, afraid that she was imagining this miracle; Michaela looked upon the face of her rescuer, her breath briefly catching in utter surprise.

"Matthew?" Michaela whispered as she let out the breath she had been unknowingly holding.

"Are you alright, Dr. Mike?" Matthew asked with concern, while the same confused look crossed his own face as it had Michaela's; clearly surprised by his own actions and abilities.

"Yes, yes I'm fine…thank you…" Michaela said gratefully as Matthew placed her on her feet.

"No problem…are you sure though…?"

"Yes, I'm fine…" Michaela cut him off, hurrying to Charlotte's side, while ignoring the slight discomfort in her abdomen. Kneeling over the limp body, Michaela ran two fingers along Charlotte's neck, in search of a pulse. Finally finding it, weak but present, Michaela reached for one of her ointment bottles on the counter beside her. "Colleen, would you please get me a dry cloth…there should be one in the cabinet behind you."

Colleen quickly retrieved the cloth and handed it to an anxious Michaela. "Is she gonna be alright?" Colleen whimpered as she hiccupped piteously.

"I'm not sure…" Michaela said honestly while she quickly took the cloth and uncorked the bottle, pouring a few drops of the liquid content onto the cloth. Placing it over Charlotte's nose and mouth, Michaela adjusted herself slightly on her knees. "Charlotte…Charlotte can you hear me?"

As she spoke, Charlotte's eyes lazily opened, and she looked up at the young lady doctor. "Dr. Mike…"

"Shh, don't try and talk right now…everything is going to be fine…" Michaela said quickly, deceiving her own medical knowledge; as she reached for her medical bag and searched through it, trying futilely to find a possible cure. But she was interrupted by the touch of a trembling hand upon her arm.

Michaela looked up to see Charlotte staring at her with tear filled eyes, telling her that she knew… "Don't you go working yourself too hard now…I made a promise, and I intend to keep it!" Charlotte laughed weakly, before turning her head to her daughter. "Oh Colleen…wipe them tears up darlin'…you're so beautiful, don't go blemishin' that pretty face with tears…" Colleen smiled and nodded, pointlessly wiping away the tears to please her ma, only for them to soon replenish themselves upon her cheeks.

Charlotte the looked to the side of Michaela, where Matthew stood in the corner of the room, and smiled slightly while whispering to herself, "You'll be fine…you're a strong lad…"

Feeling herself slipping, Charlotte looked up, catching Michaela's teary-eyed gaze once again, while beckoning her closer with a breath of a whisper. Leaning towards her dear friend to hear her plea, Michaela felt the tears which stung her eyes begin to cascade over their barrier. "Now don't you start bawling for me while I'm still around…you're a strong woman Dr. Mike…you can do whatever you put your mind to, you've been provin' that your whole life!" Michaela shook her head, soothingly gripping Charlotte's fragile hand, refusing to accept the inevitable. "Yes, Dr. Mike…yes ya have…and now I need ya to use that strength…I need to ask ya a favor…a big one…"

"Anything Charlotte…anything…" Michaela said without hesitation.

Charlotte closed her eyes, holding on to the life that was quickly slipping from her grasp for a few more minutes. "…Please…you're the only one I trust…you're gonna be a great mother to your own babes…but please, would ya take care of my children too…"

Tears escaped Michaela's eyes at a record pace, and she shook her head again. "That wont be necessary Charlotte…you're going to be fine…just fine…" Michaela whispered as her voice cracked.

Charlotte gave another weak chuckle before becoming serious again. "…Please, please promise me…"

Trying with all her might to control the heaving cries which fought to free themselves from within, Michaela gave Charlotte's hand a gentle squeeze. "…I promise…"

Charlotte let out a weak sigh from her lightly smiling lips, letting go of everything she had held onto. "…I think…I think it's time for me to sleep…I think a nap would do me good…" Charlotte whispered to no one and everyone, before her eyes closed and she fell into a world of night.

"Oh no…Charlotte…" Michaela's breath caught as her fingers once again found themselves running along Charlotte's neck searching for a heartbeat. Only this time, her attempts were in vain. "No…no Charlotte, you are not leaving now…" Michaela spoke shakily over Colleen's developing cries, as she placed her ear upon the woman's chest, praying for better luck. "No…no Charlotte, don't leave us…don't leave your children…don't leave me…"

"Ma? Ma?" Colleen whimpered, hoping that her mother's talk of mere sleep was all that had happened.

Michaela pulled back reluctantly from her dear friend, allowing the tears to continue their silent fall without futile attempts of wiping them away. Continuing to hold the limp hand in her own, Michaela refused to meet Colleen's pleading gaze as she requested in an unusually high voice, "What time is it, Colleen?"

Colleen sniffled slightly as she stared in confusion at the young doctor, not understanding her sudden interest in the time. "What? What has that got to do with…?"

"Please…what time is it?" Michaela asked again, her voice completely failing her halfway through, causing her to gulp at the restraining lump in her throat.

"It's…it's 6:42 in the evening…but…but Dr. Mike…aren't ya gonna do…?" Colleen began again.

"Colleen would you please bring me your mother's patient chart…it's on my desk…" Michaela interrupted in a calm voice which only cracked every so often.

Hesitating initially, Colleen did as Michaela requested, still oblivious to the exact condition of her mother. "Here, Dr. Mike." Colleen sniffled again.

Michaela released her dear friend's hand to retrieve the papers from Colleen's outstretched arms. "Thank you…" Michaela muttered as she scanned the page for the dreaded line…the line she wished she never has to fill.

Colleen's curious eyes followed Michaela's neat writing; and in that moment she was suddenly struck with a realization of the truth. "No…no…NO MA! SHE CAN'T BE! YOU HAVE TO DO SOMETHING!"

Michaela stopped writing as she watched her own tears fall onto the page, mixing with the ink and staining the paper. Still, she refused to look at the begging girl.

"Dr. Mike…aren't ya…aren't ya gonna do something for my ma..." Matthew's voice sounded, startling Michaela slightly. "…I mean…she…that can't be good…lying on the floor like that…and, and ain't ya gonna give her some medicine…are ya gonna wake her up again with that smellin' stuff…." Matthew's speech perpetually got faster as his affirmation became clearer and clearer.

Taking in a deep breath, Michaela hid behind her professional veil, mastering her emotions momentarily. "I'm afraid that these conditions did not allow me to take any course of action…"

"Stop with the proper medical talk and DO SOMETHING!" Matthew bellowed, his fears overtaking his control.

"I'm so sorry, Matthew…I…I can't…" Michaela whimpered, losing her grip again.

"What do you mean 'you can't'?" Matthew cried out again, his voice cracking slightly.

"I'm sorry, Matthew…you mother…she…she died." The words echoed off the walls tauntingly, causing all living things to pause and shutter in their places. "I'm so sorry…there was…there was nothing I could do…"

"NO!" Colleen screamed out, her worst fears being declared as fact. "NO! MA! PLEASE…please Ma…wake up, ma…wake up!"

Michaela shivered as she witnessed the heartrending scene of a daughter shaking her dead mother in an attempt to wake her from the fatal sleep. Moving to comfort the distraught child, Michaela tried to embrace her, only to have Colleen push her welcoming arms away and fall back over her mother. "Get away from me!"

Michaela's spirit broke upon hearing Colleen's refusal of her, causing the tears to fall quicker and stronger. Moving away from the pair to lean against the cabinets, Michaela sighed heavily, trying to determine the next course of action. Gazing, teary-eyed, about the room, Michaela looked upon Matthew, who had yet to move since the declaration of Charlotte's death. Just as she was about to say something to Matthew, Michaela noticed the absence of one member. "Where is…?"

But Michaela was interrupted by the sudden opening of the clinic door. "Sorry I'm late, Steven and I…" Brian said joyfully as he entered the dreary clinic, however his smile quickly dissipated, and he stopped short at the sight of his mother and sobbing sister on the floor. "Ma?"

Michaela began to get up, but was cut short by Matthew, who finally broke from his reverie and walked briskly to his brother, grabbing hold of his arm roughly. "Where have you been!" He said bitterly.

Brian looked up at his brother in fear, never having heard such anger in Matthew's voice before. "I…I was fishin' with Steven…Ma said I could…what's wrong with Ma?" The fair haired boy whimpered.

"She's dead, Brian! While you were off with your fish…Ma died!" Matthew shouted at the innocent child, pushing him backwards forcefully while letting go of Brian's arm.

"Matthew! That isn't the way…" Michaela reprimanded as she awkwardly brought herself to her feet.

"Don't tell me what to do! Not when you can't even do your own job!" Matthew hollered at Michaela, before turning and storming out of the clinic and into the developing darkness, slamming the door behind him.

Matthew's words hit Michaela hard, wrenching her already broken heart, as tears raced each other down her sadness-stained cheeks.

"Dr. Mike…please…it ain't true, is it?" Brian whimpered, as he looked at Michaela with pleading eyes, seeking a happier truth; one that was, regrettably, nonexistent.

Michaela's broken heart shattered under the youngster's gaze. Making her way to the seat by her desk, Michaela beckoned Brian into her comforting embrace. Brian hesitantly obliged to sit on Michaela's lap as she attempted to collect the various emotions running through her veins. Gently caressing Brian's back, Michaela let one arm out, seeking contact and support from Colleen, who had become incredibly quiet since Matthew's outburst and departure.

Initially, Colleen disregarded Michaela's attempt at comfort, desiring no physical contact at the moment. However, as Michaela regretfully pulled back, Colleen suddenly reached out to grasp the retreating hand.

Touched by Colleen's change of heart, Michaela took a deep breath before taking the plunge. "Brian…your mother…I'm sorry, your mother died due to failure of the heart…" Michaela paused briefly as Brian gazed at his mother's lifeless body, tears streaming down his face. "She had been having…

* * *

…_Trouble with an irregular heartbeat, however it appeared to be improving…_

Michaela paused in her writing as she stared into the flames, emotions still running high from Charlotte's sudden death.

…_Oh Sully, I know I mustn't blame myself for her death, there honestly wasn't anything that I could do. But no matter how many times I tell myself that, I can't help but feel guilty every time Brian and Colleen come sulking to the breakfast table, where they pick at their food but have no appetite for it. Or when we are in town and they sit on the steps of the mercantile, staring off into space or watching as their friends stroll through town with their mothers and fathers. It frightens me that Colleen says perhaps four words to me a day, including "hi", "bye", and "going t'bed"; while Brian has been silent since he came in to the clinic that day. I know that the medical term for such behavior is melancholia, and it is obviously normal after such a crisis; but I fear that they may never accept my, or our, guardianship over them and they may forever be bitter to the world…_

Michaela breathed slowly, hypnotized by the elongating beams of light, which danced across the walls as the flames flickered in the hearth.

…_I hope you will accept them Sully, I promised Charlotte I would take care of them. It was her last wish. I know they are fond of you, especially Brian…I'm sorry Sully; I shouldn't worry you with such things at the moment. You need to rest and regain your strength. I can't bear to think of you in such awful conditions as you must be in right now. But I thank God that you won't be fighting during the winter months._

_It's times such as these when I miss you the most Sully…when all is still and quiet except for the spontaneous crackle from the hearth or the distant howl of a wolf…I can't help but think of you and where you are; if you're well or not…wishing it were your arms around me instead of this wool blanket…I'm sorry, I don't mean to write to depress you even more so. I'm just at such a loss of what to do._

_I love you Sully, and think of you with every breath I take. And I'll try to have a merry Christmas if you do the same…_

_All my love,_

_Your Michaela_

Michaela placed the finished letter and pencil on the end-table beside her, next to the letter she had received from Sully the previous day. Immersing herself again into the spellbinding flames of the fire, she reminisced on the week's tragic events. Two days after Charlotte's death, the funeral took place in the old cemetery by the church; where the majority of the town showed up to give their last respects to Charlotte Cooper. Matthew finally made an appearance at the funeral, after vanishing since he stormed out of the clinic on that haunting December night. Michaela attempted to console with him, but Matthew refused to listen to anything she had to say, and simply stated that he was going to go work for Olive, an old family friend living on the outskirts of Mexico. Michaela initially argued, telling Matthew that his siblings needed him; however Matthew remained bitter towards Michaela and stalked off, ignoring her pleas for reconsideration.

With the help of a few townspeople, Brian and Colleen reluctantly moved their few belongings into the spare rooms of Michaela and Sully's homestead. The days to follow were mostly filled with silence or Michaela's futile attempts at comforting conversation. Trying to be strong for the children, Michaela made an effort to be as optimistic as one can be after such tragic events occur. Now, on Christmas Eve, Michaela sat in front of the fireplace, staring at the mantel where two empty stockings hung, awaiting to be filled. Sighing softly to herself, Michaela rubbed her slightly bulging stomach tenderly and began to make the gauche journey to her feet. However, the creaking of a step caused Michaela to halted her actions and look towards the stairwell. There, clad in his nightshirt and wool socks, stood Brian; silently staring at Michaela with sad eyes.

"Brian…could you not sleep?" Michaela asked with concern.

At first Brian made no acknowledgement that he had even heard Michaela's question. But just as she was about to repeat herself, Brian nodded.

"Oh dear, come sit here…" Michaela beckoned him to her lap. Slowly and cautiously, Brian made his way down the remaining steps and over to Michaela, timidly crawling onto her lap and sitting awkwardly against her stomach. "Well, I guess I'm not exactly the most comfortable embrace…but was there something wrong? Did you have a bad dream?"

Brian shook his head and looked down at his fidgeting fingers. Michaela was at a loss of what to do or say to him, and her mouth merely gabbed open and shut a few times, while she tried to find the words of comfort that would take away his pain. Unfortunately no such words existed.

"Why does everyone keep leavin'?" Brian's small voice pierced the night for the first time in days.

Completely shocked by his speaking, Michaela shook her head and tried to recuperate. "I'm sorry, what…?"

"Everyone…they keep leavin'…" Brian said again, this time looking up at Michaela with his sad, innocent eyes.

"I'm afraid I don't understand what you mean, who's leaving? You mean Matthew?" Michaela asked, afraid that she wouldn't be able to answer the dear child's question.

"Well…yeah Matthew…but there are lots of people…like Tom, and all them soldiers, like Sully…and now Ma…" Brian listed off, as Michaela's heart dropped; not knowing how to answer. "…it just seems like everyone I care about…they all are leavin'…does no one like me anymore?"

"Oh no, no sweetheart…don't ever think that. Everyone cares so much about you and your sister and brother; no one wants to leave…" Michaela tried to explain.

"Matthew did…I heard him, he said he would rather go away with Ms. Olive than stay with us…"

For this Michaela found herself lost for words again. "Matthew…Matthew is just upset and hurt…he doesn't know how to deal with his pain. So he's trying to separate himself from the place that reminds him of his mother and the pain…and in doing so, he left and hurt others who care for him…unfortunately he doesn't realize this now, he's just trying to find himself…"

"Kind of like Sully, when Ms. Abby died?" Brian rationalized.

"Yes, a lot like that. But Brian, none of the other people you named off wanted to leave you…Tom and all the soldiers, including Sully; none of them wanted to leave their homes…but war can complicate things, it forces us to do things we don't always want to do…to make sacrifices…" Michaela trailed off, listening to the words she spoke and understanding them now for herself.

Brian nodded, but he remained confused about one thing. "But Dr. Mike…why did my Ma leave me?"

Michaela choked on her own tears, which she refused to allow to fall. "Oh Brian…I…I don't have the answer to that...there's not a known reason for such medical impairments at this time. I wish there was, and I wish I had known of them so I could have prevented this. But no one knows right now…I know that seems like an awful excuse, and I know it won't take away your pain…but as the reverend would say, perhaps God has a plan for you and your mother…"

Brian nodded again, and rested his cheek upon Michaela's chest. "…Like comin' to live with you; that could be part of the plan…"

Michaela shrugged slightly. "I suppose…are you alright with that?"

Brian remained silent for a moment, before lifting his head up and looking Michaela straight in the eye and nodding. "…But is it ok that I still miss my ma?"

Michaela let out a fair sigh, and embraced Brian again. "Of course Brian…I'll never expect you to stop missing her, and I highly doubt that you ever will…I'm not trying to replace her, I could never do that…I only hope that you will see me as a friend who you can come to with your problems, who will care for you and always be there for you…can you accept me as that?"

Brian nodded and wrapped his arms around Michaela's neck while resting his cheek on her shoulder. "Dr. Mike?"

"Yes Brian?" Michaela answered warmly as she stroked his back soothingly.

"Would you sing me a Christmas song…Ma always used to do it on Christmas Eve to put me to sleep…?"

"Of course…which one would you like?"

"Ma used to sing Oh Holy Night sometimes…" Brian suggested through a yawn.

Michaela smiled, knowing the piece from her carriage rides with her father on Christmas Eve; passing the carolers who sang in sweet harmony on the Boston street corners.

"_Oh Holy night, the stars are brightly shining, _

_It is the night of our dear savior's birth._

_Long lay the world in sin and ever pining,_

'_Til he appeared and the soul felt its worth._

_A thrill of hope the whirling world rejoices,_

_For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn…"_

* * *

"_Fall on your knees, _

_Oh hear the angel's voices…"_

Sully heard the drunken voices of various soldiers, singing dissonantly to the normally beautiful hymn. While Sully had half a mind to tell them all to shut up, he knew they were only trying to get their minds off the families and warm, well cooked meals that would otherwise be awaiting them at home, had they not been pulled into this costly war. Stroking the dieing embers of his pathetic fire, Sully tried to keep warm; but the blustering wind was against him and soon his fire completely died out, leaving him in the dark and even colder than before. Sighing heavily, Sully gazed up at the stars which sparkled mockingly back at him, reminding him of that light in Michaela's eyes when they kissed.

"…_Oh night divine,_

_Oh night, when Christ was born…"_

The drunken tones interrupted Sully's train of thought and he was brought back to his surroundings with a frigid gust of wind. "Oh Michaela…what I would give to be home…what I would give to see you, just hold you…just kiss you…" Sully said softly to himself, crawling into the lean-to he built for the winter. Wrapping the single cotton blanket he had tightly around him, Sully lay down upon the leaf covered ground.

Rolling onto his back, Sully once again stared up into the black abyss and imagined Michaela looking up at those same stars. With this thought in mind, Sully drifted off into a dream filled sleep…

* * *

"_Oh night divine,_

_Oh, night,_

_Oh night…divine."_

Michaela's voice faded out as she looked down at the child lying fast asleep in her arms. Using all of her strength, Michaela somehow managed to get herself and Brian up the stairs and into his bed room. After tucking him in, she lightly kissed his forehead, and silently exited the room. After hurriedly stuffing Colleen and Brian's stockings, Michaela slowly made her way to the bed chamber she shared with Sully, only to find it depressingly empty as it had been since August. Gulping down the lump in her throat, Michaela crossed the room in one large sweep, and gazed at the stars which shone brightly on the blustery Christmas Eve. Wrapping her arms around herself, Michaela envisioned all the nights she and Sully had spent on the front porch holding each other as they stared at the stars, finding the various constellations and exchanging soft caresses from one another.

"Oh Sully…I miss you…so, so much…" Michaela breathed as she closed her eyes, forbidding the tears from falling. Lifting her eyelids slowly, Michaela glanced back up at the indigo sky, hoping that Sully might be looking on those same stars, making the distance between them seem magically less.

A slight twinge in her stomach reminded her that her body needed rest from the exhausting week. Peeling her eyes away from the glittering sky, Michaela made her way to the soft comfort of her bed. Sinking into the soft mattress, Michaela soon felt the built up fatigue overtaking her body. Just before she slipped into unconsciousness, Michaela's hand felt for the empty pillow beside her, gently stroking the light fabric. "Goodnight Sully…Merry Christmas, my love." And within moments, Michaela succumbed to greatly needed sleep.

* * *

_Well, there ya have it folks...this wasn't an easy chapter to write, and I'm afraid it shows...please review!_

_Penny_


	10. Chapter 10: Out of the Darkness

_**Chapter 10: Out of the Darkness**_

**Wind whipped through the billowing grass, smacking her pale calves as she ran joyfully across the meadow. The cloudless sky rained bliss upon her innocent parade on that heavenly afternoon. This pasture was her grazing land, her private place, her kingdom, where she ruled over her imaginary subjects, saving the day from whatever evils the creative mind could think up. The feeling of the wind in her golden locks sent waves of ecstasy rippling through her youthful being as she raced towards the wooden bridge, where she might face the daring troll or dragon. Preparing herself for the hazardous journey, the child rose herself upon the thin rail and began her balancing act. **

"**Stepping 'cross the wooden rail, don't look down or else you fail…" She sang mindlessly to herself, placing one foot in front of the other. Arms held lightly in the air, she made the slow crossing of this treacherous mission, marveling at her own obtained skills. A screech of a hawk sounded nigh on, disturbing the girl's tedious task, and caused her to lose the balance she had so successfully achieved. **

**The screech was soon joined with a cry, echoing off of the child's kingdom, mocking her failed quest. Down, down, down, she fell, landing with a splash in the shallow creek, which ran cool in the shadowed ridges. Picking up her sodden body, tears bulked in her pale blue eyes as she looked upon her soiled dress, instantly noting the rend that ran up her puff-sleeved arm. "Mama is gonna give me a beatin' for sure…what am I gonna do?" **

**Throwing herself onto the grassy bank, the young child stared up at the vast Pennsylvanian sky, wishing, for once, that clouds might form and she could blame her dampened dress on a sudden rainfall. But no such luck would be granted for her. Shivering slightly as a breeze brushed past her, she turned to begin the journey up the short, precipitous, slope. Yet as she rotated, a flicker of admiral blue caught her eye…**

* * *

_My Heartsong,_

_By the time you read this, my luck will be that the day of lovers will have already passed. But as you said in your last letter, 'it's just a day with a special name'…it's just one more day away from you….just one more day of missing you….just one day…I love you Michaela, with every ounce of my being and your face never leaves my mind. You're a handprint on my heart Michaela, etched there for all of eternity. I only wish I was with you now; holding that hand, seeing you carry our children, holding you, comforting you…telling you to rest more, and arguing with you that you push yourself too hard, bickering until we realize that we have accomplished nothing with such a row and seeing the ashamed and bashful smile that curls on your lips as it always does after one of our…um….disagreements…Oh my love, I don't have the words to tell you how much I miss you, how much I want to be with you, how much I love you…all of these things go beyond infinity, beyond all possibility. So I'm stuck saying only three words; three words which will somehow encompass more meaning in them than could be said in a thousand words._

…_I love you… _

_Happy Valentines Day, my love. _

_Sully_

Her heart pounded rapidly in her chest as she denied the tears in her eyes permission to fall. Closing her eyes, Michaela gulped down the developing lump in her throat, trying to calm the cry that yearned to escape her pursed lips. Everything hurt; her body, her throat, her heart…her spirit…and the strength to control her dignity was slowly diminishing, as was her will...

Finally precluding the persistent sob, Michaela let go of the held breath that had been begging to flee from her expanded lungs, and looked at the frayed parchment in her hands. Holding it close to her chest and sighing softly, she stared across the room at the wooden panes of her clinic, seeing nothing but visionary hallucinations of memories long past existence. A light knock at the door awakened Michaela from her sorrowful entrancement, and she was forced to recollect herself as always. "Come in…?"

The door wavered, opening slowly; as if nothing but a slight breeze had pushed upon it. Finally it swung forward to reveal a visitor much to Michaela's surprise. "…Dorothy!"

Sighing softly, the fiery-haired woman hesitantly stepped into the clinic, closing the door behind her. Her only escape…

"Um…may I help you?" Michaela asked tentatively, not quite sure how to handle the awkward situation. They had not uttered a single word to each other since Dorothy's leaving of the clinic. Michaela had begged Dorothy to stay a while longer, but Dorothy would hear nothing of it, and there had been silence between them ever since.

Dorothy's taciturn behavior remained as she walked leisurely across the room, refusing Michaela's persistent eyes the satisfaction of meeting with her own.

"Dorothy…?" Michaela breathed again, baffled by Dorothy's sudden and obscure presence. "…Dorothy, what are you doing here? Is there something wrong…did someone get hurt?" Michaela accentuated her conclusion for Dorothy's strange arrival by quickly reaching for her medical bag.

"No…!" Dorothy finally uttered harshly, as Michael awkwardly rose from her chair to grab the various instruments she might need. "…No…that's not why I came…"

Somewhat startled by her austerity, Michaela slowly placed her bag down and descended back into her seat. "Then…then what is it, Dorothy?"

Clearly trying to control her tormenting emotions, Michaela gave Dorothy time to collect her thoughts. "I know I have been…absent for the past few months…" Dorothy said monotonously, her eyes settled briefly on everything in the room except on Michaela's constant gaze.

When Dorothy paused momentarily, Michaela felt she should speak to clear the air of the awkward silence settling like thick fog into the room. "Well it's completely understandable Dorothy…you suffered a great loss and then to have Martin leave and abandon you as he did…"

But Dorothy shook her head and held up her hand, silencing Michaela from further discussion. "No…no, I was wrong to push you away as I did…to act cruel to you as the world seemed to do upon me…you just wanted to help…"

Michaela took in a breath and readied herself to speak again, however Dorothy raised her hand once more.

"Wait, Michaela…please…I need to say…I need to say I'm sorry…I'm sorry for pushing you away and acting bitterly towards you."

Michaela shook her head and reached to clasp hands with Dorothy. "All is forgiven…you were in pain…pain worse than anything I have yet to be put through, pain I hope I never have to experience…"

Dorothy nodded and reaffirmed the clasp between their hands with a single pulse. "…But Michaela…I'm also sorry…I need you to know that I didn't blame you or hold you responsible for Tom's death…that's not why I was nasty towards you….I …I suppose I was jealous of you….jealous of the fact that your loved one had survived…and still was surviving…and you were gaining two loved ones while I lost one…I guess I didn't see how it was fair at the time…"

Dorothy's words echoed through her mind as Michaela shook her head again. "You're right, it isn't fair…it isn't fair that we should have to say goodbye to our beloved, not knowing when we might meet again…not knowing _if_ we might meet again…I know that's why Sully made sure there was no 'goodbye' between us…he tried to make it feel like there would never be a true goodbye…a last good bye…" The words tumbled from Michaela's lips before she could think about them. She knew not where they came from, but they felt right, and she finally, fully understood Sully's actions, and the purpose of every word he spoke in his promise.

"…I suppose I never realized how lucky I have been as of late….I mean, luckier than some...I never looked at it that way…"

"It's easy to get caught up in the bad aspects of life…enough to miss the gifts we are constantly being given…like your friendship to me…"

Michaela smiled and nodded, seeing Dorothy's point. "Yes…I suppose we all have the tendencies to take so many things for granted."

After a brief moment of silence, where both ladies reflected on their own gifts, Dorothy asked with a bit more cheer in her voice, "How are the children faring?"

Michaela gazed back down at her shoulders. "As well as anyone could expect…actually Brian is doing quite well….every once in a while I can even get a laugh or a mere grin out of him…"

"But…Colleen?" Dorothy inquired, noticing Michaela's hesitancy over the girl's well-being.

Michaela sighed, trying to think of what to say about something that was so unknown to even herself. "…Colleen…she still barely speaks to me…I've tried to talk to her, both about her mother, and even just daily chatter…but she refuses to respond or converse with anyone, barely even her brother now…She goes through the motions of each day, but lives without feeling, it's concealed within her…she acts as if she's in another world or realm…I'm at a loss of what to do!" Michaela admitted, despising her helplessness in the matter.

"Oh dear, I know it must be dreadful watching her go through this difficult time…but I suppose it will just take time…" Dorothy comforted.

Michaela nodded, reflecting on her own past tragedies. "When my father died, I was devastated… but I had no one there to console me…my mother and I were not in the best spirits, in fact if anything we were at odds with each other even more so after he passed away; I suppose we kept our rows minimal in his presence…but, I moved on alone…although I will say it did take quite a while for me to greet a new day with a smile. I just wish there was something I could do to help her…"

"Just being there helps…and I think if you continue to try and speak to her, maybe one day she'll come out of her shell…perhaps she's just afraid of being hurt again. You are pregnant, and with Charlotte being the town's midwife before you came, I'm sure she's probably seen her share of complications. She just doesn't want to lose another woman she's grown close to…who can blame her…" Dorothy suggested.

"Oh God I hope that's not why…I don't know how I would get through to her…" Michaela said hopelessly.

Yet Dorothy's eyes shone. "The same way Sully got through to you after David died…with patience and understanding…and mostly with love…"

Michaela nodded, recollecting Sully's kindness and caring for her when she was lost in the woods, alone and abandoned by death. "I just…I just want to help her so…so badly. I want to take away her pain, and show her that there is some good in this world."

"She'll know, Michaela…she'll know by your caring for her, and by the love that shines true in your eyes. She'll come around…in her own time, she'll come around…" Dorothy replied with an optimism Michaela only wished she could share.

"I do hope so…" Michaela said blankly, staring deep in thought off into space.

"Have ya heard any word from Matthew yet?"

Michaela shook her head, coming out of her reverie only to be met with another one of her many trials. "No…no word at all…I don't know what to do…I've let Charlotte down…I've…"

"Oh no, you haven't done anything of the sort Michaela!" Dorothy interrupted.

"I've lost him! She asked me as her last wish to take care of her children…and for all I know, he could be dead now…he could…he could…"

"And what do you think he'd be if he was still here?" Dorothy shot at Michaela, who paused her rant in confusion.

"What? What is that suppose to mean?" Michaela rebuked, hurt by the possible meaning of Dorothy's comment.

"Do you think he would be well here…surrounded by everything that reminds him of her and her death? Michaela some people need to get away. Some people can't move on with the help of others…some must find their own way…like me…" Dorothy reasoned.

Michaela fell silent, absorbing everything that Dorothy had said. As much as she wanted to deny it, everything made sense; and there was nothing she could do about it. "I suppose you're right…but his absence is having such a horrid impact on Brian and Colleen. Brian was under the impression that Matthew specifically left him because he didn't love him anymore…"

"Oh the poor dear…" Dorothy sympathized.

"I told him otherwise…I said that Matthew would return soon…but I'm just not sure how long it will take for "soon" to wear thin." Michaela shrugged.

Dorothy nodded slowly, allowing a moment of silence to interrupt their conversation as both women pondered the situation. Breaking the calm hush, Dorothy decided to change the subject. "Well, are ya'll gonna be at the sweetheart's dance tonight?"

Michaela shrugged again. "Honestly I wasn't planning on it…I didn't think that the children would find it very appealing or entertaining…considering the circumstances…"

"Maybe it would be good for them, perhaps it might cheer them up….get them out of the homestead for a while and bring some life back into 'em!" Dorothy suggested.

"Maybe…" Michaela said quietly, looking down at her hands, gracefully poised upon her round stomach.

"Is there something wrong, Michaela?" Dorothy inquired, noticing the young woman's subdued attitude.

Glancing up briefly, Michaela shook her head and hid behind her inner veil, passing off a smile to throw the hunter off course. "No, no of course not…why should there be?"

Dorothy, however, was not so easily fooled by the smile planted on Michaela's lips but not in her eyes. "Michaela…do _you_ not want to go to the dance?"

Seeing that her masquerade was not working, Michaela closed her eyes and gave in to the burning feeling in her gut. "It just doesn't feel right…going I mean…it would be so…so…"

"Different?" Dorothy finished her sentence.

"Letting out a sigh, Michaela nodded. "Yes…different…it's hard enough walking through the town and seeing the stares, or hearing the pathetic gossips and whispers…and the worst part is when the approach me about it!"

"You mean people have been cruel to you?" Dorothy asked, shocked and repulsed by such an idea.

"No, no, no…not at all…everyone is just…just…they're all being sympathetic, giving me their prayers and support…" Michaela trailed off, feeling selfish for being upset, and not taking the townspeople's actions for the well intentioned gestures they were.

"But…?" Dorothy pushed, trying to make sense of Michaela's situation.

"…I suppose I'm just tired of being reminded with every concerned glance that my husband could die at any given moment…or that he might already be dead…it's all I ever think about anyways, and going to the dance…the looks and gossiping…"

"You've never been afraid of those things before." Dorothy pointed out.

"Yes but before…before Sully was here…before they were things I was either proud of, or they weren't true…and I knew the truth, so I could go in with a proud head and take whatever was thrown at me…but now…now…"

"Now is the time to move on Michaela…"

"What? What do you mean 'move on'?" Michaela asked, confused.

Dorothy moved to kneel beside Michaela, and took the doctor's hands into her own. "Michaela…Sully is at war, he's fighting in these battles…and you're never gonna stop thinking about him…but ya gotta stop living your life around that worry…that's why people are talking…I mean I don't know for sure…but…maybe, even as hard as you try to hide it…maybe they can see you're upset, maybe they think you're falling apart…so just maybe you need to show them that you are strong…"

"But Dorothy I'm not strong…not that strong…I've lost something…my will, my nerve…" Michaela spoke, almost on the verge of tears.

Grabbing Michaela firmly by the shoulders, Dorothy interrupted her cry. "Michaela, listen to me…you are strong and yes maybe you have lost your nerve… maybe you don't have the nerve to be the mother of the Cooper children or your own…"

"What?" Michaela breathed, not believing that Dorothy would say such a thing.

"If you're too scared to push past the gossips, how are ya gonna raise your children Michaela? Now I know deep within you is the doctor that defied convention…beat the stereotype…did what most women only dream of doing…the lady doctor who traveled west with her fiancé, only to have him die and abandon her in the wilderness…the woman who the picked herself up and dusted off her skirt, and went on to become the town's doctor…"

"But I didn't dust myself off alone…" Michaela reminded her.

"No…no and I'm not asking ya to! I know I wasn't there earlier Michaela…but now…Michaela I'll be there for ya…but you owe it to yourself to continue to live…you owe it to the children…and I know that Sully wouldn't want you to go on like this…"

Michaela remained silent, Dorothy's words making so much sense, yet the pain from the entire situation continued to pang at her heart. "Dorothy…I don't know if I can…"

"You can…and you will…but only if you want it Michaela…otherwise you'll live in a world of misery…not much different than that of Colleen's…"

Suddenly it all clicked. Everything seemed so different to Michaela in those few moments…everything had a purpose, and she could see a way out…a path for both of them to take…

"So will you sit with me at the dance tonight, Michaela?" Dorothy asked quietly, unsure if the shocked look on Michaela's face was that of a revelation or a new demoting thought.

Slowly, Michaela nodded, sure of her self and her new will. "I'll see you there…" She breathed.

The fiery-haired woman smiled and departed from the clinic, happy to have helped her friend out of the pit of despair she had fallen into.

* * *

"Brian would you put on your church clothes please?" Michaela asked brightly as she entered the Homestead.

"Why…it ain't Sunday!" Brian said innocently.

"No, but we're going to a dance, and you'll need to look like a gentleman for all the pretty girls who are going to want to dance with you." Michaela teased as she lightly ticked the child under the chin, sending heartwarming giggles into the air.

"I don't want to dance with yucky girls!" Brian laughed, squirming away from her tortuous hand.

"Would you dance with me?" Michaela suggested playfully.

Brian's eyes lit up at the thought. "Really! Ya would dance with me!"

"Of course…I would be honored and delighted!" Michaela beamed, thrilled to see the child's change in attitude.

"But Dr. Mike…I don't know how to dance…" Brian said, suddenly saddened by the prospect of not being able to join in the festivities.

"Well, why don't I teach you then? What do you say?" Michaela encouraged, hoping to win over the child's favor.

"Well…ok but only as long as I can get some punch…." Brian compromised.

Michaela laughed at the little boy's antics. "Of course, now go on and get dressed, we don't want to be late!"

"Ok Ma…I mean…" Brian froze in his place on the steps, fearing the words that had escaped his own mouth. "…I…I…"

"Brian, it's alright, sweetheart…it can be our little secret alright?" Michaela whispered gently, placing her hand comfortingly on his upper arm. Brian nodded and looked back up into Michaela's eyes with a pleading look, as if he wanted to ask something, but was afraid of the outcome or meaning. "Is there something else you wanted to say or ask, Brian? You can ask me anything, you know."

Brian dropped his gaze to his feet and shifting his weight uneasily, trying think of the words to describe his concerns. "…Dr. Mike…is…do ya think, my ma would mind if….well…do ya think she'd stop lovin' me if I called you 'ma'…?"

Michaela's heart broke and flew at the same time. "Brian your mother will never stop loving you…and…I could be wrong…but I think that she would be very accepting if you called me 'ma'."

"Ya think so?" Brian asked innocently.

Michaela nodded. "I think you're ma would be very proud of you…for acting so grown up during the past few months…but I do think I need to talk to your sister about a few things first…alright?"

"Can I tell her about the dance?" Brian asked gleefully.

"Why don't I talk to her first…I think that there are a few things that we need to discuss before we throw something like a dance on her, do you understand?" Michaela tried to explain. Brian nodded innocently and Michaela ruffled his hair slightly. "Thank you…now go on up and get dressed!"

Following Brian up the steps, as he scampered to his room, Michaela walked slowly to the entrance of Colleen's room, knocking softly before entering. The room was dimly lit with a fading oil-lamp and the full moon cast an eerie glow through the window. "Colleen?"

"What is it?" Colleen spoke sharply from her place on her bed.

Michaela paused momentarily taken back by Colleen's sudden bitterness. Collecting herself from the wary feelings that grew in her stomach, she pushed herself onward. "Colleen…I know you've been through a horrible time lately and…"

"No you don't…you don't know anything about what I've been through…" Colleen snapped back.

"Yes, I do…"

"No you really don't….you haven't lost both your parents…and…"

"….No, Colleen I haven't…but…" Michaela tried to cut in.

"Then how could you ever understand what my brother and I have been through?" Colleen turned from Michaela and stared out the window.

After a brief hush, Michaela finally found the courage to speak again. "Because I know what it's like to be all alone…I know what it's like to be lost, and afraid….I know what it's like to lose the one person that matters most to you…and I know what it's like to be forced to keep living, when all you want to do is curl up and die somewhere…and never see the light of day again…never see the evils of the world…" Michaela broke off, visions of her past flashing before her like whirlpool of nightmares. "…Colleen…I also know what it's like to move on…and I know it's the hardest thing to have to do…but…you can do it…you can see the light again…you can wake up and be happy…and I'm not saying it will come tomorrow or the day after…maybe not even for a week or two…but when it comes, that day will be the most beautiful day you've ever seen. The sun will dance on your face and it will warm the skin that has been cold for so long…and you'll finally realize that there is joy and goodness left in the world…and most of all, you'll see that there are people here that love you still, that care so much about you, and all they want is for you to be happy…"

As Michaela's voice trailed off into silence, tears trailed down Colleen's cheeks, revealing the pain that had long been held captive inside her. "…I don't know how…"

Instantly Michaela rushed to Colleen's bed and embraced the sobbing child, stroking her back soothingly. "Shhh, it's alright…it won't be easy…it never is…but you just have to make peace with it, you have to force yourself to keep living…just remind yourself to keep breathing…and after awhile you won't have to remind yourself anymore…you'll never forget her…I don't know what it will take for you to move on…but I'm here for you Colleen, I promise you that…I won't leave you…"

Colleen pulled back slightly and nodded, controlling her sobs. "Thank you…"

"Of course, darling…now…I know this is sudden, and if you don't want to I wouldn't blame you…but your brother and I were thinking about going to the Sweethearts dance…would you care to join us?" Michaela asked tentatively.

"I don't have a dress." Colleen stated with disappointment.

Michaela smiled slightly. "Well…I think I might have an answer to that issue. Come with me…" Michaela took Colleen's hand gently and led her out of the gloomy chamber and into her own. Opening the oak truck at the foot of the hand carved bed, Michaela retrieved the item she sought. "I wore this to my first dance…it doesn't fit anymore and I don't really know why I ever kept it, but I'd like you to have it." Michaela handed the elaborate, red dress to Colleen, who took it gently into her outstretched arms.

"Oh Dr. Mike…I couldn't…I mean…it's gorgeous….but I…" Colleen stuttered over her words as she looked, mesmerized, at the silk dress.

"Colleen, please, I want you to have it…otherwise it will just go back into this trunk, only to pick up dust and fade…please, take it…" Michaela insisted.

Colleen bit her lip, and suddenly broke out into a smile that had not crossed her lips in months. "I guess I'd better get changed then…we don't want to be late."

Michaela's heart swelled with joy and she embraced Colleen again, before the blond child rushed from the room to change. Staring back into the trunk, Michaela's eyes crossed over the dress she had worn to the last Sweetheart's dance. Memories of that night whirled around her, causing her breath to catch in her throat and her heart to skip a beat. Just as tears were beginning to renew themselves in her eyes, Dorothy's words sounded in the distance and Michaela was forced to push away the emotions and begin to ready herself for the night.

* * *

"We need a doctor over here!" Sully called out, bending over his friend, fear gripping his body. "Hold on Daniel, ya gotta hold on…"

"Another one…?" A tired looking nurse ran to the cot, bring with her towels and a basin.

"I think so…what is it….do we know yet" Sully asked, dreading the answer, whatever it may be.

"We have a theory…it's been spreading through all the camps…killing hundreds…" The nurse breathed, placing the cool, damp cloths onto Daniel's moist skin.

"What? What is it?" Sully pleaded again.

"The rash…the fever…it's small pox…"


	11. Chapter 11: Shameful Tears

_**Chapter 11: Shameful Tears**_

**She stared at the frayed paper, haunted by those joyful eyes blazing from the couple before her. She had seen and felt that ecstasy once herself, but it had slipped away; leaving her heartbroken and alone. An abandoned child in the darkness of night. The shadows of her past triggered emotions she had long thought deceased, causing tears to well in her hazel gaze; tears that had been dried, but never forgotten, for a year now.**

Drying her sorrows, she continued to look upon the hated portrait, unable to pull her eyes away from the agonizing scene. Those orbs mocked her pain, sending venom into her fingertips as she crushed the parchment, hoping to rip the bliss from their eyes. Yet, try as she might, her hands failed to shred the paper; as if some mystical power refused her the delighted pleasure. Defeated by an unknown force and a piece of paper, she sank to the ground, ashamed and wounded.

By some whim of an evil spirit, a thought entered her mind, sending shivers down her spine. A wicked smile crossed her porcelain face, and a malevolent darkness stirred in her eyes. "If I am not to destroy it…then at least I can hide it…" 

---- --- ----

_Pain rippled through her body like a raging river though an entanglement of rocks and weeds. "NO!" Michaela's lips moved to cry out, but she was stuck with a paralyzing fear as another jolt of pain consumed her._

Michaela was suddenly aware of the steady trickling sensation running down her inner thigh. Breathing in jagged, sharp breaths, she glanced down into the billows of her skirt and watched in horror as a slow crimson stain grew onto the fabric. Realization and agony both stuck and captured Michaela, forcing her to push past her anguish and cry out into the darkness.

As her scream penetrated the night air, scarlet continued to dye the folds of her skirt, spurring the dread and terror enveloping Michaela. Suddenly Michaela found herself being cloaked in complete darkness. Crying out again, her voice echoed eerily in the blackness, almost singing to her in a way that made Michaela's skin crawl and core shiver.

Then, out of the darkness sprang a misty fog, which rolled forward towards Michaela, chilling her to the bone. In a soft whisper, a child's voice breezed past Michaela, awakening all of her senses. "Mama..."

"...My baby..." Michaela breathed, searching for the owner of the voice. However, the fog soon began to swarm around her, swirling in dizzy spirals that made Michaela's stomach turn. Just before the world around her became a blurred jumble of shapes, a young child with sun-streaked brown hair emerged from the fog and whispered in a voice almost incoherent to Michaela's straining ears, "Bye ma..."

With the child's words still echoing painfully in her mind, the toddler's face dissipated into the shadows while the fog completely engulfed Michaela, sending her spiraling into a world of swirling smoke and mist. "Noooo!"

"Ma! Ma...wake up!" Brian pleaded, while shaking Michaela's shoulder in an attempt to awaken her . Michaela's eyes suddenly sprang open, causing Brian to jump back in surprise. "Ma? Are you ok?"

Still recovering from the traumatic nightmare, Michaela slowly lifted her head from its resting position atop of the seemingly-endless stack of patient files she'd been updating, and peered around at the examination room; attempting to reorient herself with the surroundings. For the past month she'd been visited and haunted by these dreams of miscarriage and death, yet more and more they seemed increasingly real and vivid, more and more they sprang fear and dread into Michaela's mind. Finally coming to terms with reality, Michaela pushed the dream from her mind and awkwardly raised herself from her chair. "Yes...yes Brian, I'm fine..." Desiring nothing more than to get off the subject of her well-being, Michaela continued before Brian could say anything else. "We should be getting home...what time is it?"

"Just after four...ya fell asleep 'bout an hour ago and Colleen figured we should just let ya sleep...but just now you were mumblin' 'bout something and it sounded like you was real scared..." Brian explained cautiously, hoping not to upset her anymore than she already clearly was. "Sorry for waking ya ma...I just figured if ya were havin' a bad dream you'd want to wake up..."

Michaela, however, barely heard any of Brian's ramblings as she quickly collected, stacked, and stored her various papers; fighting to keep her emotions within and keep hidden the fear that shook her core. "No...Brian, its...its fine..."

"Ma...are you...?" Brian began.

"Brian, why don't you go and find your sister..." Michaela interrupted, but was cut off herself when the clinic door opened to reveal Colleen, standing angrily in the door way.

"Brian! I told you not to wake Dr. Mike!"

"But she was havin' a bad dream!" Brian protested.

Placing her hands up to halt any further arguing, Michaela stashed the final stack of papers in the appropriate drawer and grabbed her black medical bag. "It's fine, Colleen...we should be heading home anyways..."

As Michaela waddled around the examination room, making the final preparations for the night, Colleen stood from afar, watching the young woman's peculiar behavior. "Dr. Mike...are you alright?"

"Hmm?" Michaela jerked from her stage of deep thought, as if she had suddenly become aware of the children's presence. "Oh...um, yes...is um...is the wagon ready?" Michaela said quickly as she turned away from Colleen's critical gaze, praying that the girl would simply answer the question.

Colleen, however, was not as easily shrugged off as Michaela might have hoped. "Dr. Mike you look awfully pale...maybe we should stay in town tonight..."

"Colleen, I said I was fine..." Michaela snapped, a little more sharply than she had meant to. Closing her eyes, she let out a deep breath, attempting to control the throbbing lump in her throat. "...Please, would you check to make sure the wagon is hitched-up?"

Angered and annoyed by Michaela's stubbornness, Colleen grabbed Brian's hand and pulled him with her out the door. "Yes ma'am..." she sneered.

The door slammed shut following Colleen's final comment, leaving Michaela alone in the perfect quietness. Clenching her fists together, she pounded them on the wooden counter, beating out her frustration, anger, and anxiousness.

Finally, after so many days of dry cheeks, Michaela allowed the swollen tears to fall from her eyes and come crashing down in a landslide of droplets. Emotions pouring from her contrasting orbs, Michaela hid her face in shame from the world; ashamed of her display of weakness, and of her inability to control the turmoil within. Gazing up at the oak beams, Michaela uttered a silent prayer to the heavens before dropping her eyes to her round stomach. "Please let these dreams of late stay only that...dreams..."

-- - --

"Why'd I have to come with you? Ma only told you to hitch-up the wagon!" Brian whined as he hoisted himself into the back of the wagon.

With an aggravated sigh, Colleen pulled herself into the driver's bench while one hand grasped the reigns. "Brian...Dr. Mike needs some time alone..."

"Is she alright?" Brian asked with innocent concern.

Staring across the road at the various people heading home from their businesses, Colleen chose her words carefully. "Dr. Mike needs to get her head on straight...she's under a lot of stress...too much stress...and she just ain't thinking clearly."

"Wadda ya mean?"

"I mean she's doing what she always does, puts everyone else above and before herself...she tries to hide all of those emotions inside, 'til they're built up so high she can't even see straight..." Colleen trailed off, deep in thought. "...But she's forgetting that she's not just doing it to herself..."

Puzzled, in his naïveté, by Colleen's last words; Brian began to ask, "Ya mean she's also doing something bad to the..."

"HELP! HELP, WE NEED A DOCTOR!" A voice called hysterically from afar. A young man in uniform suddenly came around the bend in a wagon, rapidly approaching the clinic. "Help! I've got five men here...they're sick and dying fast! Is there a doctor here?"

Colleen nodded, gesturing towards the clinic. "Yeah...Dr. Mike's here, but..."

"Sir?" Michaela's voice came from the clinic entrance as she shut the door behind her, about to pin the "closed" sign in its place. "...Can I help you?"

"Go get Dr. Mike for me...we got some real sick men here...hurry woman!" The officer shouted as he ran to the back of the wagon.  
Taking a deep breath to prepare herself, Michaela walked briskly to the wagon. "I'm Dr. Michaela Quinn, or Dr. Mike...please just bring..."

"You? A Doctor?" The officer paused and looked Michaela up and down.

"Yes, now please bring the men into my clinic so that I can examine their sympt-..."

"I'm sorry, I was ordered to take these me to the closest _real_ doctor...where's the next closest town doctor...?" The man began to ask as he ran to the driver's bench.

"Sir, I am a _real_ doctor and if these men are as sick as you say they are, then your actions could be costing them their lives..." Michaela spoke sharply, ignoring the pang that erupted in her abdomen.

Staring Michaela up and down one last time, the man sighed and shook his head. "I'd be risking their lives even more so by staying..." With that he snapped the reigns and was off, leaving nothing but dust and bitterness in his wake.

"Michaela...it's probably for the better..." Dorothy spoke softly as she walked up to the clinic after witnessing the upsetting conversation.

Michaela's stared in shock at Dorothy, upset by her comment. "Are you...are you saying that you agree with him?"

"No Dr. Mike..." Colleen cut in. "...she's saying that it was best for your own health...and your children's..."

"Colleen, I appreciate your concern but I do not need you to..." Michaela began, before falling silent as another jolt of pain ripped through her.

Mistaking the silence for an inability to find words, Colleen continued bitterly. "What...to look after you? Well you clearly aren't doing it for yourself...so somebody's got to!"

The pain suddenly passed, allowing Michaela to breathe again. "No...Colleen..."

"Michaela...Colleen's right...you'd be exposing yourself and your unborn children to God knows what..." Dorothy interjected. "...And from what I've heard, epidemics of small pox and influenza have invaded many of the regiments across the coast..."

"What?" Michaela paled as she heard Dorothy's last words.

Realizing her word's effect on Michaela, Dorothy spoke softly. "I didn't want to worry you...but I read last night in the Denver Post that, especially back east, they've had numerous outbreaks of small pox...they've had to close all connection with such regiments..." Pausing before she continued, Dorothy feared Michaela's reaction. "..that may be why Sully hasn't been able to contact you lately..."

Michaela shook her head, suddenly feeling incredibly dizzy. "Sully...he didn't take one...he gave it up to the children..."

"Gave what up, Dr. Mike?" Colleen asked hesitantly.

"The vaccination..." Michaela breathed, before suddenly doubling over in pain.

"Dr. Mike!" "Michaela!" Colleen and Dorothy cried out in unison.

"What's wrong...what is it Michaela?" Dorothy asked weakly, holding on to her dear friend's shoulders.

Michaela glanced briefly up at Dorothy and then Colleen before forcing her voice to sound through the pain. "Con...contraction...labor..."

---- --- ----

Tears welled as the smoke from the blazing fire stung at his eyes and face. It had been weeks of nothing but smoke and death, weeks of watching fellow soldiers say their last words; crying out final blessings of love to their family members and loved ones, never to be heard by those who sought it. For the past two months, Sully had worked along side the doctors and nurses, helping in any way that he could; but there was only so much that anyone could do. Mostly Sully spent his days piling various clothing items along with other belongings into pits to be burned and scorched beyond use. After the first week of the epidemic, Sully had already lost count of the number of uniforms he had fed to the flames or the number of letters he had watched turn to ash and soot.

Although the entire experience weighed heavily on his heart, Sully found that he could not complain of his fate. For, by some miracle, neither Sully, nor Daniel, had fallen to the death that so many others had, and for that he considered himself lucky. Yet deep within, Sully knew that his luck was wearing thin...something was going to happen, or perhaps it already was occurring. When or what it was he did not know, but the aching in the pit of his stomach which he could not rid himself of, told Sully that things were changing...and not necessarily for the better.


	12. Chapter 12: Living Without Life

_**Chapter 12: Living Without Life**_

**Her cold eyes scanned the damp material beneath her before reaching down for a damask sheet from the pile. Ruffling it out in violent shakes, she fought against the persistent wind; quickly pinning the fabric to the line before releasing it to the breeze. The wind billowed through the beige sheet as it did through the tall grass surrounding the farm yard. The sea of gold led for miles around, over the rolling hills and distant valleys, leaving the house and woman alone on the lonesome prairie. **

It was upon that lonesome prairie that the young widow's gaze turned. Her sad eyes searched the billowing plains, as if waiting for a long-lost loved one to emerge from within the wheat glades and run forth towards her outstretched arms. But all that came was the cool breeze, slapping her worn face as always.

Turning away from the mocking pasture, the young woman began to walk back towards her homestead. Yet as she came to the door, she saw out of the corner of her eye someone running towards her. "Katherine...Katherine what is it? Where on earth have you been...and what ever did you do to your dress?"

"Mama...I found...I found something...Mama come and see!" The young girl beckoned, waving her arms enthusiastically.

**"Mama...I found papa!"**

--- ---- ---

_April 21, 1863: Battle of Chancellorsville_

The booming...the ringing...the thunder, the crash, the burning. All and everything signaling the end of the world charged at Sully as he sat, drenched in mud and sweat from the muggy heat. His hands ached from the constant firing, and the humid blanket of air caused a dizzy spell to fall over him. Yet, in spite of the mutilation of conscience which impacted him with each piece of cold metal flung from his weapon, Sully continued to carry out the orders of his commanding officer. He fired hundreds, thousands, hundreds of thousands of shots at nameless faces; killing a part of himself, or more, a part his self dignity, with each death, until nothing lingered within him except a dullness, a bypass.

This is what he had truly feared; for it was one thing to be dead, physically, but quite another to have died mentally. To have stopped caring, hoping, dreaming."...What's the point in life if you can't live it? "Sully muttered, barely able to hear himself over the barreling cannons.

"What?" Daniel shouted beside him, ducking as a cannonball defaced the earth fifty feet in front of them.

Not actually intending on being heard, Sully shook his head and focused back on the battle before him. "Where's Meade?"

Daniel shrugged while he continued to fire. "Haven't seen him in a few hours...last I heard, he took up post in the eastern division...why?"

"Not too sure we're gonna hold much longer...their forces just keep getting stronger it seems...how many men d'we got left behind the right flank ya think?"

"Can't tell...but by lookin' at the bullets flyin'...Sully there's less than a dozen men out here...shouldn't we retreat?" Daniel asked as he rested momentarily behind the tree.

"...This was just a disaster...a massacre..." Sully muttered, dodging a narrowly missed bullet. They were stuck, cornered in a valley with no escape except for the field before them, where bullets and cannons rained upon the terrain.

As if suddenly awakening from a deep sleep, Sully looked around the battle grounds, ideas dawning on him by the second. "We need to get out of here...we...Daniel...run that way...!" Sully shouted, taking off in the opposite direction.

"Sully!"

"Daniel if you want to live to see tomorrow then run...I'm gonna tell the others..."

"But Sully!" Daniel shouted above the cannon's roar.

Turning back briefly, Sully began to shouted back, but a well aimed cannon suddenly fell from the sky, bulldozing the land and everything in its path as it exploded right in front of Daniel. A great rush of wind and debris ripped Sully off his feet, sending him barreling towards the ground.

---- ---- ----

_Colorado Springs  
_  
Michaela's screams echoed throughout the clinic halls as the pains of labor took hold of her, strangling and torturing her.

"Hold on, Michaela...the first one's almost here...I can see its head, just push..." Dorothy's voice encouraged over the deafening cries.

Squeezing Michaela's hand, Colleen continued to console her as Dorothy and Grace worked to aid in the birth. "...Come on Dr. Mike...you can do it..."

Panting between screams, Michaela shook her head in self-doubt. "..No...I...I...can't...no...OH SULLY!" Michaela screamed out as pain beyond belief ripped through her again.

"We have to get these babies out now...otherwise..." Grace said in hushed tones.

"...Push Michaela...now, push!" Dorothy pleaded again.

"Come on Dr. Mike...you can do it...you've got to..." Colleen cried to her adopted mother. "...Do it...do it for Sully..."

A sudden spark emerged in the depths of Michaela's eyes; determination and purpose. Pushing and screaming, fighting and ripping; Michaela gave everything within her worn and tired body, until at last a new cry filled the examination room. Within those cries, all the fatigue and pain seemed to wash away and Michaela was engulfed with a joy grander than anything she imagined.

"What..?" Michaela breathed.

"It's a girl Dr. Mike..." Grace beamed as she wrapped the enfant in blankets.

"...A girl..." Michaela sighed with a smile that had not reached her lips in months. However, the masking joy could not hold strong when the pain within her climbed to an even greater magnitude than before.

Fatigue, torment, and confusion all blurred together as Michaela's screams once again permeated the air. Michaela could barely make out her daughters cries over her own, and she could feel her worn body begin to give in to its weakness. Voices pleaded above and around her, but they were incoherent to Michaela's fading mind.

Within her blackening world, Michaela's eye caught in the far corner a child, a boy...a young man, robbed in white with crystal blue eyes and chestnut hair; smiling sadly, yet lovingly, at her. Tears blurred her vision completely, and when Michaela blinked again, her was gone.

"...My child..." Michaela spoke in barely a whisper, before blacking out.

---- --- ----

The soft mud felt cool beneath him, and for a while Sully considered lying there for eternity. The trench had suddenly become a place of calmness and peace; like a billowing meadow after a violent storm which leaves nothing but a cool breeze in its wake. But all good things must come to an end. In this case it was the constant firing of rifles and cannons that finally awakened Sully from his dream.

Resisting the urge to cry out, Sully raised his throbbing arms and pushed against the sinking mud, in a slow and painful attempt to stand. Finally managing to raise himself to his feet, Sully remained slightly hunched over as he peered through the dust and smoke which heavily cloaked the area surrounding the cannon's impact point.

He was suddenly struck by the destruction and relative location of the blast, and Sully instantly found his legs made of lead as his heartbeat flew. Fearful of what might follow his call, or what might not follow, Sully gulped down the choking lump within his throat and shouted into the cloud of dust and fog, "Daniel?"

Silence

Forcing his crumbling legs forward, Sully panted as he searched for his dear friend amidst the rubble. "Daniel!" Once again...silence followed his beckon. A far off call interrupted his search as a trumpet reveille signaled a retreat. Not even pausing to consider retreat, Sully continued his pursuit to find his friend. "Daniel! Daniel I'm not leavin' until I find ya..." Sully shouted above the sounds of approaching gunfire.

Suddenly, as if a light was cast down from heaven, parting the mists, Sully caught sight of a hand, reaching out from beneath a pile of mud and debris. "Daniel..."

--- ---- ---

_...Silence..._

Terror ripped at her gut, but she had to know. _"Where...where is it?"  
_  
Tears tumbled down Colleen's fair cheeks, as her mouth gapped open and closed, unable to find words that could possibly give any real meaning to the situation. _"I...I'm so sorry..."_

Shaking her head, unable to accept the truth which was so palpable in the young girl's eyes._ "No...Why...why can't I hear it?"_

Colleen felt herself breaking as she looked upon her adopted mother, weak and frail from the months of over-exertion and pain. _"...I...I..."  
_  
A single cry of a young infant sounded from behind the recovery room walls, momentarily calming Michaela. However when the babe's solo did not increase to the expected duet, the young mother's hopes were shattered along with her heart. _"Where is the scream...where is the second cry...?"  
_

_Words failed, truth echoed, and silence deafened._


	13. Chapter 13: Broken

**Chapter 13: Broken **

**_Pain seared through his head, striking at his temples as the swirling darkness enveloped him. Further and further he felt himself falling into the epitome of darkness and death; down into the dungeons of his grave. Before the blackened eternity took him, a growing light slowly cut through the misty fog hanging mysteriously about him. Squinting into the orbed glare, he watched as a shadowed feminine figure split the blinding light, approaching him in a methodical, yet graceful sway. Forgetting the aching of his head, he became hypnotized by the elusive silhouette and peered eagerly toward it, attempting to make out the face and identity. _****__**

**_"Closer just a little…" He breathed, overcome with the need to know who this mysterious woman was, yet fearful of the power she seemed to cast over his mind. _****__**

**_Just as the figure came close enough for her eyes to sparkle as brown and green specks through the darkness, she suddenly halted her approach and stood in silence for a moment. Unable to control his over powering desire, his voice broke the wretched silence. "Who are you…?" _****__**

**_As his words echoed through his all encompassing prison, the woman began to fade away into the mists which swirled about him; wrapping tightly around his chest, strangling the little air left in his lungs. Thrashing about to rid himself of the invisible constraints, he heard in a translucent whisper of the woman, "Come back to me…you promised…" _****__**

**_The words echoed over and over again, tormenting him as his surroundings swirled and spiraled out of control causing a dizzy nauseous spell to wash over him. Louder and louder, the echoes pounded into his throbbing head, "Come back to me…come back… come back!" And the world swirled and blinded, crushed and pounded; confusing and disorienting him, until it all fell with a mighty blow. _****__**

-- -- --

**Fields of Chancellorsville (April 21, 1863): **

Beneath the weight of his paralyzed friend, Sully ran through the thick fog, searching for cover from the raining bullets and debris. His body still ached from the previous explosion and he could feel his arms beginning to give way as he carried Daniel's unconscious body away from the battlefield. "Don't worry Daniel…we're gonna get out of here…just stay with me…stay with me…" Sully spoke softly, more for his own ears than Daniel's.

Peering through the solid blanket of ash and mist, Sully found no indication of where to turn. For a while the bullets continued to fire behind him; the enemy was closing in, and the echoes of gunshots and cannon fire confused Sully as they reverberated across the walls of the valley. It was these walls which had become his new enemy; blocking his only path to freedom; forever imprisoning him to his death.

"Damn it…Daniel we are gonna get out of here…." Sully shouted into the fog, but his words were lost to the battering of rifles. He stood amidst the swirling smoke, lost in pain and hopelessness, while his best friend remained limp over his shoulder; Sully had never felt more alone. "…We're gonna get out…we're gonna…we're…"

A cannon defaced the earth fifty feet behind the pair, shocking Sully out of his entrancement. Sunlight suddenly pierced through the wall of fog as if cast down by the heavens, momentarily blinding Sully's vision. As his eyes adjusted to the intense rays, Sully saw at the top a hill the silhouette of a man perched upon a horse. Seeing the blue of his uniform and sparkle of gold on his shoulders gave Sully the hope and drive to keep going.

His hopes were renewed as the man charged towards them, dodging bullets and cannons as he flew like the wind down the hill side. "Looks like you got yourself trapped down here…is he still alive?" The horseman inquired as he jumped off his horse to help Sully hold Daniel.

"Barely, but we're not leaving him…we gotta get him back…he can't die on me now…" Sully said with conviction as they lay Daniel across the back of the horse.

"He's your best friend…?" The man asked. When Sully nodded, the man echoed his actions and let out a soft sigh before handing the reins to Sully. "Here…you take him back…ride up the hill as fast as you can, don't look back…just keep riding…."

Sully grasped the reins and stared, puzzled, at his fellow officer. "…But where are you going?"

The man turned and began to walk away briskly, while calling back over his shoulder, "There's another man injured right down here…go on! Hurry the fog is lifting…"

With that the man disappeared into the mists, leaving Sully alone with Daniel and the mare. Sully stood for a moment in utter amazement at the man's bravery and selflessness, for he knew the probable fate of the gentleman. It had been a suicide mission just to attempt to save Daniel and Sully; but then to give up his own means of escape and continue to try and save more soldiers took an astounding amount of courage, and perhaps a bit of insanity.

A passing bullet ricocheting off a near-by tree alerted Sully to the enclosing danger around him; heeding the officer's warning, Sully mounted the horse with Daniel positioned across the front, and charged up the hill at full capacity.

The sun kissed his face and warmed his skin as the sweat evaporated from his brow. Despite the hope brought by the inspiring sun beams, Sully found himself like a single tree in a meadow, waiting for lightning to strike the highest point. Bullets pelted at them by the dozens as the mare continued to carry them up the steep hillside away from the treacherous valley.

"Come on girl…keep goin' we're almost there…" Sully encouraged the horse when they reached the summit. "Come on! We're gonna make it Daniel…just hold on…"

Before him lay a forest, a symbol of life and grace; for now at last, they were granted the protection of trees and concealment. Sully let out a sigh of relief and thanked the spirits of this miracle. Casting his gaze away from the heavens and down to his friend, Sully's heart stopped as he observed the silence and stillness of Daniel's chest. "Daniel? Daniel! Wake up!"

-- -- --

**Colorado Springs: April 28th, 1863**

Cold was the glare that hung in her eyes, like an artic breeze that slaps your face and takes your breath away. A detached aura surrounded her as she lay in the deathly silence, staring off with that icy glare that pierced the hearts off all that gazed into it.

A hush had consumed the room for the past week; no one attempted to converse, for they knew no reply would come, and it was foolish to think otherwise.

Colleen stood in the doorway, watching her mother's spirit die slowly within her. Michaela, who took no notice of the girl, stared, entranced by the far corner, as she had for days now. Colleen was at a loss. There was nothing she could do, nothing she could say that would awaken Michaela from her depression. She'd thought that, perhaps after the pain had settled that the young doctor might have shown some sense of life; but now…she began to wonder if that time would ever come….if there ever would be someone who could rouse Michaela from this nightmare.

The wailing of a baby, interrupted Colleen's thoughts, and she was forced to leave her mother to comfort the enfant.

Michaela remained perfectly still as her child cried for her from another room. Gone were the days when she jumped at the sound, gone were the moments of lingering hope that her baby boy still lived. Now there lay nothing. A bypass, a broken heart, a shattered spirit…not even the tears of her daughter could give her the will to rise up and live. She was a nothing but a body, a statue; without feeling or emotion. For the true pain was gone…the shock was gone. But nothing else remained either; all had been eaten up by her torture. She was dead among the living, and the only thought that ever passed into her head now was whether she would even remain as that for very long.

The wails continued to fill the clinic, tormenting Michaela's heart. For she did hear them, she heard everything, contrary to what everyone else thought, but she found no reason to care for anything anymore. Yet those tears…she knew…she knew deep within her empty gut that those cries were for her. Try as she might to deny it, she was being called. She _was_ needed.

A single tear escaped her eyes, which had lost their icy glare and were replaced with one of terror and angst. Footsteps sounded upon the floorboards next door, as Colleen frantically rushed about the room attempting to calm the wailing child. _She needs me…she…_ Michaela thought to herself as she struggled to determine what to do.

While her heart and mind bickered within, Michaela suddenly realized that her decision had been made for her when she heard the footsteps enter the hallway and the cries become louder. "No…no, I can't…I…no, I can't do this…not yet…" Michaela's voice broke as she whimpered quietly.

But her troubled worries did not halt Colleen's final attempt to revive Michaela, as she came boldly through the door with the distressed babe in hand.

"Dr. Mike, please, she needs yo-…" But Colleen's voice was lost as she stood in amazement, staring at the tear streaked face of her mother. "Dr. Mike?"

Michaela took no notice of Colleen, yet stared, eyes transfixed on her baby daughter in the young lady's embrace. Instantly filled with an emotion, so unlike anything she'd ever experienced, Michaela raised her weak arms, silently requesting her child.

Colleen was dumbstruck; for while this was everything she could have hoped for, she honestly expected Michaela to remain in her detached state of being, locked away from the rest of the world with the look of life absent from her eyes. Shaking herself from the daze which had consumed her mind, Colleen leaned in and handed the baby girl to her mother.

In that moment of first contact, it was as if the entire universe had ceased to exist, everything and everyone who had come in contact with Michaela was gone, and it was just her and her baby. The child's wails stopped, as did every other sound and feeling. For one brief moment, the agony of loss was gone, the pain and dullness forgotten, Michaela was cleansed of her angst and helplessness.

This world of unrealism was spontaneously broken by the simple touch of a young girls hand upon Michael's shoulder. Michaela's head jerked up to look into Colleen's tear filled eyes that shined down upon her. "Dr. Mike…" Colleen whispered soothingly, "…she needs ya…" Michaela's gaze dropped back down to her baby as Colleen continued. "…we all need ya…and we know it's gonna take a long time…we know that the pain will never truly leave ya…but, we love ya Dr. Mike…and we couldn't bare it if you left us…"

A waterfall of tears cascaded down Michaela's cheeks as she listened to Colleen's words knowing that she needed to keep going…knowing that she needed to live, because she was needed…she was wanted and loved. There was something to live for…

"Katie…" Michaela whispered.

"What?" Colleen asked, completely confused.

"That's her name…we chose it along time ago…Katherine Elizabeth Sully…" Michaela said quietly as she gently rocked the baby.

-- -- --

"Help! I need help here!" Sully screamed, running towards the medical tent. "Please, ya gotta help him…." Sully begged the nurse who rushed up to him.

"Is he alive?" She asked quickly.

"Yes…but he's stopped breathin' a few times….." Sully responded through his panting breath, as they hurried into the canvas tent. Inside there lay four rows of cots, with no less than fifty divans per row. The beds were overflowing with injured and decrepit soldiers, and even then many did not receive the luxury of the metal cot. Of those men, only some were lucky enough to lie on sheets, sodden with unmentionable fluids, rather than the muddy floor. Aside from this it was the stench that first hit Sully; that unbearable odor of death and peroxide. With the smell came the horrible sounds of men, screaming and crying in torture.

"Sir!" The dark haired nurse shouted at Sully, finally getting his attention. "Lay him there…" she pointed to a two foot wide space upon a blood spattered sheet that spread across the floor between two cots. After Sully did as she asked, the nurse brought out her notepad which was used to keep track of the hospital's inmates and their diagnosis's. "What's his name?"

"Daniel…Lieutenant Daniel Simon…"

"What is the extent of his injuries?"

Sully paused to look at the nurse. "Ain't that your job to figure out what's wrong with him?"

The stern woman glared at Sully with venomous eyes. "Sir, if you would care to look around, there's over two hundred men in this tent alone that must be attended to. We do not have the time or the resources, to do perform a thorough examination of each. So if you would please just answer the question as best you can…otherwise there are plenty of other injured men who would appreciate his space…

Having no other alternative, Sully shook his head and answered the question. "He was struck head on by the cannon…when I found him, he was beneath a pile of debris with a broken foot and the bone piercin' through….I was able to set the bone real quick and I wrapped a piece of his uniform around the cut to stop the bleedin'…" Sully sighed, trying to think of anything else he could remember. "…He didn't wake up at all…even when I set the bone…for all I know he could have a concussion…but I couldn't tell…"

The nurse nodded as she scribbled down the information onto her pad. "I'll inform the head doctor…your friend will be scheduled for surgery late tonight…"

"Surgery?" Sully interrupted, completely perplexed by the nurse's response and abhorred by the malpractice taking place. "You're gonna do brain surgery on a man you haven't even examined yet?"

The woman looked slightly amused at Sully. "You must be joking sir! Of course not! It would be an absolute waste of precious time and materials to perform brain surgery in such conditions. The patient would be more likely to die during the surgery itself than to live without one at all…no sir, that's why we are waiting until later tonight for Mr. Simon's surgery…"

"Wait…I don't think I understand….why are you operating on him?"

The nurse, who had begun to walk away, stopped and looked back at Sully in confusion. "Did you not say his leg was complexly broken?"

"Yes…but I…" Sully replied hesitantly, not sure at all where this was going.

"Well then it's all part of procedure, Lieutenant Sully…" The nurse continued. "…His leg must be amputated."

"What?!"

"Sir, please understand that in order to prevent gangrene from forming…"

But Sully wouldn't hear the nurse's explanation. Although he knew only a small amount from what Michaela and Cloud Dancing had taught him, Sully was aware of other alternatives in such cases; and wasn't going to allow Daniel to fall into such a fate without a fight. "Wait…no, if you just sterilize…"

"Sir, are you a doctor?" The young woman asked pointedly, having had enough of this arguing.

"Excuse me?"

"Have you in recent years obtained a medical degree from a creditable college?" She restated vituperatively.

Seeing her contention, Sully attempted to organize his argument efficiently. "No…but…"

"Exactly, so would you please step outside…you are disturbing our patients and as you can see there is little room in here as it is…"

"No," Sully intermittent again, unwilling to sentence his friend to their grave, "…I may not have a medical degree, but it doesn't take a doctor to have common sense! At least enough to see that this operation would kill him! Even you said it could happen with brain surgery…couldn't the same be true here?"

"Sir…"

"My wife's a doctor out west…she sees these types of injuries all the time, and I can promise you that an amputation is her last course…"

"Sir! Even if that is true about your wife, we are in completely different circumstances here…if you feel you can do a better job caring for the lieutenant, then take him…someone else will be there to take his bed…" The nurse spoke through gritted teeth before turning on her heal and rushing away. However, before reaching the tent's exit, she suddenly stopped and rotated back to face Sully one last time. "But sir, I would warn you that, should your friend die while in your care…his blood rests on your hands…"

Sully let go of the air trapped within his lungs attempting to calm the fury and anxiousness that had built up inside. Glancing around, he saw the eyes of hundreds set on him, all wondering what he would do. But at that point, Sully was just as clueless as the rest of the curious eaves-droppers. While he knew that the fate of Daniel was certain, should he stay; Sully could not bring himself to take the life of the one man he could call his friend here into his own hands. He couldn't bear to be the cause of Daniel's death.

And so, taking one last look at Daniel's still face, Sully made his decision by turning and walking briskly from the tent carrying nothing but the feeling of self-disappoint.

-- -- --

The sun beckoned and the warm, spring breeze flooded the Colorado Valley; thawing the town's windows and doors, while welcoming the inhabitants out into the lush meadows and forests. It was if a dreary cloud had been lifted from the town's horizon; and despite the anxiety caused by the recent news headlines, depicting another loss on the Union's side, it seemed as though life did indeed move on, even after tragedy.

It had been a week since Michaela had first held her child in her arms, and it had become seven days of complete change and renewal in heart and spirit. There was color in the cheeks that once had remained grey and peaked; there was a small gleam in her eyes that had once been dull and lifeless. While one could still see the pain that she bore on her heart, it was as if Michaela had been reborn and her worries forgotten.

_Yet even the best mask can shatter…_ Michaela thought to herself, as she stroked Katie's fair cheek.

"Ma! Ma! Look at what Ms. Dorothy and I found for ya!" Brian exclaimed as he ran up to Michaela's bedside with a small bouquet of wild flowers in his fist. "The meadow is full of 'em! But I made sure to pick the prettiest ones just for you…"

Michaela smiled, slightly yet sincerely, before kissing the top of young boy's head. "They're beautiful Brian…thank you so much..."

"Now Brian, remember what I told you about not upsetting your mother too much…" Dorothy said as she entered the recovery room.

"Oh Dorothy I'm…" Michaela began.

"Still quite weak…now why don't you go downstairs and find a vase to put those in…and don't forget to fill it with water this time!" Dorothy called after Brian, who dashed from the room immediately to fetch the items.

The two women chuckled slightly at the boy's enthusiasm, before Dorothy's eyes settled on Michaela's face. She could see the worn outlines that the weeks had carved into her face, the sorrow that still remained so prominent in her eyes. Had Michaela made progress? Of course she had, but still, there was so far to go…

"Michaela? You've made so much progress these past two weeks…I shouldn't ask more of you, I know…" Dorothy paused, terrified of the words she was about to speak. "…But…you know you can't put it off much longer…I know it's hard, but…you're going to have to tell Sully…"

Within mere seconds, Dorothy almost wished that she could have taken back her words. The air, which had moments ago had rained of bliss and harmony, now became tense and cold; as did Michaela's figure. "...Michaela?"

"No…" Michaela whispered.

"What?"

Michaela looked sharply at Dorothy. "No…I can't tell him…"

"Michaela, please…you've got to, he's gotta be told…you know he's gonna find out sooner or later and it needs to come from you…"

But Michaela simply shook her head, while tears began their downward descent. "No….I can't….I won't!"

"Michaela, I'm not asking for right at this moment, but…!" Dorothy begged, trying to get through to Michaela.

"No, I won't hurt him like that…" Michaela cried. Seeing her mother's tears, Katie began to wail, causing the nervous energy to build within the room.

Dorothy took a deep breath; watching her distraught friend soothed the restless baby. "Michaela…you'll be hurting him more by waiting…"

But Michaela shook her head again. "No….you don't understand, I can't….I…I can't do it…not to him…"

"I'm trying to understand…but…"

"I can't tell him this in a letter…such things were not meant to be written…"

"Such things were never meant to have happened…but they did…and I'm not saying it's easy…heavens no…but…" Dorothy tried to reason, but she found that she was at a loss for words. Staring off into space, she massaged the temples of her worn face, listening to Michaela's shaking breath as the young woman silently sobbed.

"Telling him…it would kill him…you don't understand, I can't do that….I can't tell him such a thing as he goes off onto a battlefield…I just…I can't be the cause of his death…" Michaela's voice trailed off as she stared, teary-eyed off into space, deep in thought.

"Michaela…you wouldn't be…"

"I would…" Michaela said plainly, cutting off Dorothy from any further speech.

After a few moments of torturous silence had passed, Dorothy stood up and began to walk towards the balcony window. "Do you honestly believe that Sully would purposefully die on that battle field because you told him…" Michaela did not answer, so Dorothy continued. "Do you truly think that Sully has nothing else to live for? That he would rather die than come home to you and the beautiful baby girl that awaits him?"

When Michaela remained silent again, Dorothy turned from the window and kneeled by the bed, taking the young doctor's hand into her own. "Michaela…don't you see…Sully loves you…he'll come back to you no matter what…"

This time Michaela answered. "No…I…I can't…Please just leave me…please…"

Dorothy looked down on her lost friend, so confused and tormented by the pain she'd endured that she couldn't even see the things that were so plainly in front of her. She couldn't see the things that had and always would remain a constant when the rest of the world turned inside-out. And Dorothy feared that there was the chance that she never would.

-- -- --

He felt like a coward and a traitor; abandoning his friend to their death only to save his own skin. Rushing past the frantic nurses and patients Sully fled from the main camp, away from the havoc and sounds of battle, deserting into the woods. Lost in his thoughts and contemplations, Sully let his feet carry him blindly through the winding trees of the pine forest.

As he wandered aimlessly through the darkness, his senses began to return to him; and with them came the overpowering ache of his torso, arms and legs. Daniel's condition had shrouded the injuries Sully had endured from the explosion, causing them to return threefold now. Wincing in pain, Sully staggered to a fallen oak that lay parallel to a meager stream. Letting out his held breath slowly, he gazed into the babbling water, seeing more than the reflection of his own disheartened face.

"I'm sorry Daniel…" Sully spoke softly casting his eyes down to his soiled hands. "…I tried, but…I wasn't strong enough to save you…I couldn't risk your life by putting it into my own hands…"

Again his eyes settled on the brook as his hand instinctively traveled to him breast-pocket. There his fingers stroked the one piece of happiness that he still carried; the photograph. His mind traveled back to the day the picture had been taken, when all thoughts of war and death were lost to them…when only joy and hope for their future together filled their minds.

"How do you do it?" Sully questioned the night air, while his thoughts lingered on Michaela's smiling face. "How do you agree to take someone's life into your own hands?" A sudden sense of admiration and bewilderment engrossed Sully as he began to realize the true courage of his wife.

It was not as though he failed to see her bravery before; Sully had always been astounded by Michaela's ability to defy convention by becoming a doctor out west, living as a single woman on the frontier, and continuing to stand up for those whose voices could not be heard. He thought of her as the bravest woman on earth just for those things, but now….now Sully saw the day-in-day-out, nerve-racking torture that Michaela underwent, and it stunned and amazed him. Truly, Michaela was the most amazing woman on earth, and with the feeling of pride adorned in his heart, Sully eventually succumbed to the sleep that tempted him so.

- -

Sun beams filtered through the restless leaves which fluttered in the gentle breeze. The nightingale's final song danced with the steady trickle of the babbling brook. All was calm…all was at peace in the solitude of the oasis. As the songbirds' hymn awakened the earth and the morning glories blossomed to greet the sun, Sully began to stir from his slumber. Suddenly taking notice of his surroundings, he leapt up from his relaxed position upon the soft turf. Taking off in the direction of the camp Sully reoriented himself with the previous night's events as well as his own condition. Cursing his decision to rest by the stream, Sully moaned as he felt the full effect of sleeping upon the uncomfortable terrain.

Pushing past the pain, Sully finally reached the union camp, where he stopped to catch his breath. Hunched over and panting slightly, he was suddenly aware of his name being called.

"Lieutenant Sully!"

Sully turned and peered into the rising sun searching for the owner of the voice. Finally he saw the silhouette of a man striding towards him, and although his face remained in the shadows, Sully immediately recognized the man. "Sir?"

"Lieutenant Sully…" the man who had given up his horse for the rescuing of Daniel and Sully the day before spoke authoritatively. "…Your friend Mr. Simon…it seems that he survived the surgery…"

Sully felt the weight of the world lifted from his shoulders and he thanked the spirits for this blessing. "Can I see him?"

"Yes…in fact he wishes to speak to you…"

Without another word, Sully started off in the direction of the hospital tent, but he was cut short when the officer held out his arm, holding Sully back momentarily. "We depart to head north in thirty minutes…you should know that Mr. Simons is being released…"

Sully looked somewhat baffled at the fellow soldier. "You mean he's…"

"Going home…yes his injury makes him pretty near useless on the field and the Army figures he's given up enough of himself for the cause…" The officer spoke with distaste.

Sully nodded, only half hearing the man's words. As he walked slowly towards the tent, Sully attempted to account for the various sensations that seemed to simmer within him. While he couldn't agree more with the officer's opinion that Daniel had given up plenty for the war, Sully could not hide the searing jealousy that sat heavily in his gut.

Reaching the tent opening, Sully reluctantly took in a deep breath before entering the makeshift hospital. As before, Sully was caught off guard by the horrid stench of the abode, and paused slightly to acclimate himself. Treading carefully across the body strewn floor, Sully quickly found Daniel amongst the other patients; for he was the only one that had not paled to the deathly color of white that would forever haunt Sully's dreams.

"Sully…" Daniel smiled weakly, cringing as he attempted to situate himself on the uncomfortable cot.

"Here, let me help you…" Sully bent to aid Daniel in the painfully simple task, but was halted as Daniel shook his head.

"No…no it's fine…I need to do myself…" Daniel winced again.

As Sully watched the struggling man, he did his best not to glance towards the leg that lacked the matter to be seen. Suddenly, Sully found himself overwhelmed with a nauseous feeling of guilt as he thought of his recent feelings of jealousy towards the man before him. The same man who could barely move and who would never lead the same life he had before the war.

Daniel read the mixed emotions that spun in Sully's unfocused eyes. "It's a hell of a way to get out of this war…I'm tellin' ya Sully…you can rest assured that it's not as wonderful as it looks…"

Sully briefly glanced at Daniel before dropping his gaze, embarrassed and ashamed of his feelings. Daniel, however, didn't seem to notice. "…See what really makes this deal the pits, is that I don't have a home to return to….they're not gonna want me back in the mines and they sure as hell aren't gonna need me on a cattle drive…I'd probably be more useful on the battlefield than I would be in any of those jobs…"

Sully suddenly looked up, his mind working a hundred miles a second. "…Colorado…"

"Sorry?"

"Sully kneeled next to the bed and look Daniel straight in the eye for the first time that day. "Daniel…can I ask ya a favor?"

"I owe you my life and you think you even need to ask? Anything Sully, I'm eternally indebted to you…"

Sully shook his head. "Nah, you've saved my skin plenty of times, I think we're even…but I do need to ask you something…Daniel, would you go to Colorado Springs? I'm…I'm just …"

"Worried?" Daniel finished Sully's sentence.

Sully nodded, "I was just realizing last night…Michaela's due date was over two weeks ago now…but…she hadn't sent any word…not even to say whether she's well or not, or if the babies have come…it's just not like her. And I got this bad feeling…"

Daniel put his hands up silencing Sully. "…Say no more….I'd be happy to check into Colorado Springs for a few days. I've been meanin' to get back there lately, well that is, before the war…and since I've got nowhere else to go…"

"Thank you Daniel…" Sully clasped his friend's hand.

"No thanks needed…" Before either could say another word, a bugle call resonating from just outside the tent signaled the departure for the troops moving north.

Glancing one last time at Daniel, Sully stood up and clasped his hand with the crippled young man.

"Godspeed Sully…" Daniel whispered.

With one last smile exchanged, Sully turned and strode towards the exit not looking back until he had pulled open the flap and the sun beams blinded him momentarily. In the few seconds that Sully turned his head to adjust his vision, a horrific feeling trickled down his spine as he looked briefly at Daniel one last time. Yet before he could even begin to identify the sense, the sensation simply vanished.

"Hey Sully! We're heading out…" A fellow soldier called from outside.

Concluding that it must have been a figment of his imagination or perhaps that he had just stretched his back wrong, Sully nodded and walked all the way out of the tent, never looking back.

_And then, they began their journey north…_

-- -- --

"Horace…Horace, its way past closin' time…can't ya sort those letters out tomorrow'? They ain't gonna get delivered tonight or nothin', and I have to get back to Hank's soon." Myra attempted to coax her fiance one last time.

"I'll be right there Myra…I just have to send this one last telegram…" Horace replied, as he squinted in the dull light to read Dorothy's tiny cursive. Dorothy had come in earlier that day requesting that Horace send out the telegram that night, and make sure that it was kept confidential. Flexing his fingers he whispered as he hit the lever in specific rhythmic durations. "Send to Lieutenant Byron Sully…twenty-first division...Dear Sully...tragic events have occurred…"

* * *

_I'm so sorry this has taken so long to put out. I've been so tied up in school, viola, acting, work, quartet...I even had to go to the ER because I passed out at work from the stress of it all. So, I hope that you at least sort of enjoyed this chapter. Please review! I need all the help I can get! -penny_


	14. Chapter 14: Red in the Morning

**Chapter 14: Red in the Morning…**

**_July 15th, 1863_**

**The fog slowly dissipated from around him, yet the blinding light remained, scarring his vision as he attempted to orient himself with his surroundings. This pain remained fully lodged in his temples disabling his sight, yet heightening his sense of sound as the soft coo of a women's voice fell from somewhere above him, encouraging him to awaken. "…That's it…stay with me…you'll be fine…just fine…"**

**Still unable to see the woman's face, he rotated his head, searching for the voice's owner. "Who…?"**

"**I'm Carmen Brachet…don't worry, you're safe…you're gonna be fine…" The mellow tone called to him.**

**Finding that his eyes were temporarily useless, he closed them again and himself to voice his inquiry. "…No…please…who….who…" But the question was never uttered, as a swift current of dizziness flowed through him, and he was forced to fall back into the haunting darkness that beckoned him so…**

**_July 1st, 1863: Pennsylvanian Field _**

An eerie silence mixed with the blanket of dew that covered the pasture of the Pennsylvanian landscape. No creature stirred, no bird sang, no cricket chimed. It was as if all of nature knew that something was coming, that they were on the cusp of a new horizon, a new day; and that nothing would be the same when the sun fell again into the west.

A warm breeze strewed through the tall grass, weaving in and out of each strand, leaving no leaf unturned or blade untouched. The transparent force willed its way through the valley until it scoped across a large hill, which it could not climb. Atop the hill stood one hundred men; sitting, waiting as they had all night. Among those men sat Sully, positioned with his back to the mud wall crouching in the soil and grass. His eyes skimmed along the paper in his hands over and over again, as they had since he's received the telegram two weeks ago.

_Dear Sully, tragic events have occurred. Michaela refuses to contact you, but it is necessary that you know that…_

That's all there was…the neatly typed text simply ceased. The only explanation was a brief message written below in the telegraph officer's scrawl.

_Connection broken. Storm in Denver knocked down telegraph lines. We apologize for this inconvenience._

"Inconvenience…" The usage of such a word within the context was sickening to Sully. It was an 'inconvenience' that he remained thousands of miles away from his wife…it was an inconvenience that he had no idea what had happened to her, in fact all he could be sure of was that something had indeed happened to her and that it was so awful, she could not even find it in herself to tell him, her husband…And it was only an inconvenience that the telegraph detailing Sully of these events was sent just as lightning struck.

"Men, be on guard…!" Chamberlain's voice broke Sully's train of thought. Folding the telegram in half, Sully stuffed it into his coat pocket, trying to calm his racing heart and mind. But the action was futile. His brain was simply unable to focus on anything by the pained face of his wife which continued to erupt in his mind. His nervousness must have been apparent in his features because Sully suddenly sensed his superior officer's eyes on him. Turning to look at Chamberlain's eyes, the commander simply nodded his head to beckon Sully over to him.

Reluctantly, Sully propped his rifle against the protective wall and returned to the officer's post. "Yes sir…?"

"I reviewed your case with my other officers…" Chamberlain quickly and in hushed tones as he stared at the distant horizon, avoiding Sully's persistent eyes. "…it took a lot of string pulling, but I'll be able to release you from your duties in about three week's time…maybe even sooner…"

Sully stared, dumbfounded, at his supreme officer, unable to comprehend what he was being told. "…I…sir…thank-"

"No need to thank me lieutenant…you saved my life that night you found me lost in the middle of that god-forsaken Appalachian forest…if frost bite and hypothermia hadn't gotten me, the wolves would have…"

Sully shook his head, remembering that winter night four years ago, when he'd first met Chamberlain. "Anyone would've…"

But Chamberlain raised his hand, cutting Sully off and looking at the young man for the first time. "…Let's call it even…you may return to your post…"

"Yes sir…" Sully gave a slight salute and began to walk back to his position, yet then paused and turned back. "Is it true what they say, sir? Will this battle make or break the war for the Union?"

Chamberlain's eyes had returned upwards, towards the sky and for a few moments Sully wondered if he had even heard him. "You know what they say Lieutenant Sully, about 'red at night, sailor's delight…" Sully nodded and waited for him to continue, unsure of Chamberlain's ultimate meaning. "…to be quite honest Soldier, I'm not even sure if Lee is really heading this way…"

Without another word, Chamberlain turned from Sully, never dropping his gaze from the blood-red sky as dawn breeched the Pennsylvanian mountains.

--- --- ---

**_Colorado Springs: July 4th, 1863_**

The faint smell of settled dust filled her nostrils as she walked down the creaking steps of the clinic. Despite the fact that she'd returned to work over three weeks ago, the area still felt foreign to Michaela. The instruments and structure of the room were exactly as she'd always kept them, yet things just seemed different; cloudy, dull, nothing like the feelings of renewal and self confidence that she normally felt when entering her haven. Her haven…that was it was, it was the one room in the entire world where she could do what she loved to do, where she could perform…but that room had disappeared; that world had vanished. For Michaela found that she could no longer look at that examination bed without knowing that she once lay there, and with that thought, came images of that dreadful night which were forever embellished into her mind. Images that slapped her face and gnawed at her heart.

As much as she tried to deny the fact, it was evident that nothing would be the same…

The suddenly painful sensation of having her hair pulled awakened Michaela from her daze. Detangling her copper locks from her daughter's fingers, Michaela repositioned Katie on her hip and lightly tickled the child's stomach. "No Katie…unless you want me to become bald before you're two, I suggest you stop pulling so hard on mama's hair…" The little girl squealed in laughter as her mother played with her. Smiling down at her beautiful daughter, Michaela marveled at the child's ability to make her almost forget about everything that had happened in less than a second. "…You truly are a miracle…now, mama has to do a little work work, and then we can go to the Fourth of July picnic to see Colleen and Brian…"

Striding across the room, Michaela carried the child to a small crib that Loren had given to her. Michaela knew it was his way of giving her his support, and she appreciated it more than any words of regret. Tucking Katie in, Michaela returned to her desk where her eyes immediately began to pour over the countless patient charts that sat in mountainous heaps.

While her fingers carried the pencil methodically across the paper, it only took a matter of minutes before Michaela found her mind wandering to thoughts of Sully. Michaela knew he needed to know…she knew she had to tell him. But the thought of putting it off one more day appeared so inviting, she could not pass up the opportunity. "I'm fooling only myself…" Michaela breathed staring past the blank file at nothing and everything. "…I'm living in a world that does not exist…pretending that it didn't happen won't change the fact that it did…"

Closing her eyes, Michaela massaged her temples with her finger tips, and peered earnestly out the window at the towns-people doing their last minute shopping for the day. Children laughed as they skipped merrily down the dirt road, women gossiped about petty worries amongst themselves, all was perfectly typical; yet despite the ordinariness of the scene, everything seemed so fairytale like, so blissful, to Michaela.

"What do I do Sully…what do I do?" Michaela breathed.

Looking down at her half-done work, Michaela shook her head and placed the pencil back down on the desk. "Well, it doesn't appear that I'll be getting any more done here…best go find Colleen and Brian…"

--- --- ---

**_July 2nd, 1865:_**

The apocalypse had arrived. Hell was here, it was now...its fire was shot from the cannon; its demons from the rifle. It ate up all living things. Yet above all, it rid the world of hope…

The dead lay strewn across the hillside. Thousands…uncountable, unimaginable...yet still the battle waged on in the valley.

Disaster.

It was sickening, it was inconceivable. It was death. Death lay all around Sully as he fired his rifle over and over again. Sweat mixing with the tears that rolled from his eyes, and with the dirt on his face, dripped onto the butt of the gun. "When will it stop? When…?" Sully whispered. But there came no reply except for the constant battering of the rams and the eternal raining of fired shots.

Fire and ash, cries, the burning, the turning, it was a mass of hysteria, and yet they kept fighting….and kept dying…

-- --

The sun warmed her pale skin and shone on auburn tresses as Michaela walked across the wooden bridge with Katie in her arms. Approaching the meadow, the sound of the children running through their final rehearsal became louder and louder, echoing softly across the paddock.

"_When Johnny comes marching home again hurrah, hurrah…"_ The children sang the battle hymn of the republic.

"Michaela! Michaela over here!" Dorothy called Michaela over to a blanket on the grass.

"_We'll give him a hearty welcome then, hurrah, hurrah..." _

Smiling slightly, more for her friend's sake than anything, Michaela made her way towards her friend. "Good day, Dorothy…"

"Oh come and sit, Michaela…I need to see this beautiful child…"

"_Oh the men will cheer, and the boys will shout, the ladies they will all turn out…"_

Somewhat hesitantly Michaela bent down to place her daughter into the woman's arms. Yet an eerie wind whistled past her, causing Michaela to stop and turn away. "Michaela? What's wrong?"

Michaela, however, didn't hear Dorothy, nor anything for that matter…She was much too preoccupied with the man running towards her.

"_And we'll all feel gay when Johnny comes marching home…" _

--- ---

Despite the intense cloud of heat that had sunk into the valley, Sully shivered involuntarily as he reloaded his gun. It was too much…the killing, the battering, the sickening taste that had settled in the air…all of it came bashing down on Sully to the point where he could hardly remember where he was or what he was actually doing. Finally controlling the shaking of his hands long enough to place a new bullet it the barrel, Sully rotated back to the battle field and raised his weapon.

_Bang_ to the death

_Bang_ to the light

_Bang _to all that was once believed, that was once stood up for

_Bang _to the end of being…

Sweat poured down Sully's face and his breath shook as he fired shot after shot…the world spun and fogged as if part of a dream. It's the end…Sully thought to himself. He could feel his spirit dying from within and his body giving out. "No…no not now…Michaela….I've gotta get…home…I…I promised…I gotta…"

A well aimed cannon defaced the mud fortress nearly twenty yards to the left of Sully, awakening what little was left of his comprehension.

"NOOOO!!!!!!" Came a scream that echoed over the deafening explosions and shots. Through the quickly settling dust, Sully saw a young man dart from behind the trench and stumble half way down the hill. "FRED!!!! NO!!!!" The lad screamed again.

Sully stared at the boy, who was not even of age yet, weep upon the body of his comrade.

"Crazy kid, he's gonna get us all blasted to smithereens if he don't get out of there…" Sully heard the man beside him sneer.

Nearly without thinking, Sully dropped his weapon and leaped over the protective wall to run to the boy's rescue. Staggering over the rough, devastated terrain, Sully suddenly realized the ridiculousness and stupidity of his sudden urge to be the hero. For now he stood upon a bare hill, a perfect target…

-- --

There was something wrong…

"_The old church bell will pearl with joy hurrah, hurrah…"_

…It was in his form, in the way he sprinted, his speed…

"_To welcome home are darling boy hurrah, hurrah…"_

…But mostly it was in his eyes, in those brown eyes that for once did not gleam…for once; they held darkness and hopeless comfort…

"_The village lads and lassies say, with roses they will strew the way…"_

"Horace…Horace what is it?" Michaela's voice shook violently despite her attempts to subdue it.

With heaving breaths Horace shook his head, unable to find any words that could possibly amount to what needed to be said…nothing would…

Instead Horace handed Michaela the destined slip of paper…

"_And we'll all feel gay when Johnny comes marching home…"_

--- ---

"You have to leave him!" Sully shouted over the cannon fire, dodging another bullet that pelted at him.

"NO! I WONT LEAVE HIM! HE'S A BROTHER TO ME!!!" The young man shouted as he tried to drag his companion's body up the hill.

"TAKE COVER!!!" A shout came from above, right before a cannon ball shattered the earth once again.

Squinting through the dust, Sully found the boy, still attempting to save his friend. "Here, go!"

"No! I'm not leav—"

"I'm not tellin' ya to, give him to me, I'll carry him…otherwise we're all gonna die…Now MOVE!" Sully shouted as a rainfall of bullets pelted at the hillside again. Finally giving in to Sully's requests, the lad shifted the weight of his mate onto Sully's back and started up the hill.

Carefully Sully trudged up the hillside, heaving slightly under the weight and heat of it all. Looking up, Sully rejoiced in the fact that he was almost there. "Just a few more…"

"Here hand him up…" A man's voice shouted down to Sully. A moment later two hands grabbed hold of the lifeless body on Sully's back and pulled it up.

Dehydrated, sore, and exhausted Sully climbed the last few steps towards safety. However just before reaching the peak of the soil trellis, Sully looked away, down the hill towards the enemy lines. It was a mistake known to all…

For fate was in the shot, fate was in the bullet, fate was in the position, the hesitation, the direct contact.

The last Sully saw was the whites of the soldier's eyes before he tumbled down the hillside.

Down, down, down, he fell…down into the eternal darkness…the everlasting slumber.

And there he stayed…

--

"_Get ready for the jubilee, hurrah, hurrah…"_

Dear Ms. Sully….

"_We'll give the hero three times three, hurrah, hurrah!"_

We regret to inform you that your husband has been shot and killed in battle on July 2nd, 1863 on the fields of Gettysburg, Pennsylvania….

"_The laurel wreath is ready now, to place upon his loyal brow…"_

Two firm hands grabbed the widow as she slumped, baby in arms, to the ground…

"_And we'll all feel gay when Johnny comes marching home."_

* * *

_I'm so sorry this has taken so long to get out. Life has been incredibly crazy! and I simply have not had anytime to do much of anything but school and my practicing. But I wanted to wish everyone Happy Holidays by staying up all night with renny and getting this written and done for ya'll. Thank you for you constant support, and I always appreciate your reviews! _

_penny_


	15. Chapter 15: The Lost Return

**Chapter 15: The Lost Return**

**_Pennsylvania, July 6th, 1863_**:

_Wind whipped through the billowing grass, smacking her pale calves as she ran joyfully across the meadow…_

"This way mama! By the creek…" The young girl called behind her as she ran through the endless golden blades, her mother trailing behind her.

_Down, down, down, she fell, landing with a splash in the shallow creek, which ran cool in the shadowed ridges._

"Right there mama! Right there!" Katherine exclaimed triumphantly as they came upon the wooden bridge. "See…it's papa! He looks just like he does in your pictures…"

_Throwing herself onto the grassy bank, the young child stared up at the vast Pennsylvanian sky…_

Tentatively, the young women climbed down the steep slope peering through the brush. Although she strongly doubted her daughter's words, she could not rid herself of the small gleam of hope that stirred in her heart.

_But no such luck would be granted for her. _

Shaking her head in defeat, the young mother turned back. "I see nothing Katherine…."

_Shivering slightly as a breeze brushed past her, she turned to begin the journey up the short, precipitous, slope…_

"Ma…just look…he's there, I know he is!" The child pleaded earnestly.

_Yet as she rotated…_

"Katherine, I…"

…_A flicker of admiral blue caught her eye…_

"Oh my God…"

--- --- ---

"MA!" Came the unified scream from the stands.

"Michaela…" Dorothy cried meekly, as she watched her friend fall to the ground. Yet just before her head hit the grassy terrain, Michaela stopped dead in mid air. Lifting her eyes up, Dorothy found herself staring into two crystal orbs that made her breath catch.

"The child!" Loren caught the weeping babe before she pelted out of her unconscious mother's grasp.

For but a second, everyone held their breath, and nothing moved. Not the dancing children, nor the breeze that whipped through the valley. Everything was silent, as if time had stopped for an instant.

"No, Ma!" Colleen's voice seared the dazed moment. Pushing her way through the crowd Colleen tore down to Michaela's propped up body. "Oh Ma…" Looking into the eyes of those standing around her, Colleen spoke up, "What happened?"

"I invited her over to sit with me, and then Horace came running up and gave her that slip of paper she's got in her hands…and then she just passed out…" Dorothy answered as Colleen tried to wake her mother.

Looking into the doctor's hand, Colleen slowly pulled back the tense fingers to release the paper from her mother's grasp. The speed of her heartbeat grew along with the lump in her throat, as Colleen unwrinkled the parchment and read out-loud the inscription. "Dear Ms. Sully, we regret to inform you that your husband has been shot and killed in battle on July 2nd, 1863 on the fields of Gettysburg, Pennsylvania…"

"Oh dear God, no…" Dorothy covered her mouth with her hand as tears rose in her eyes.

Fighting the tears that threatened to release, Colleen continued to read. "Accounts from several soldiers state that your husband died while saving the lives of two of his comrades. For his outstanding courage and heroic deeds on the battlefield, the United States Army wishes to commemorate your husband with the Medal of Honor. We apologize most dearly for your loss…signed, General Meade…" And silence distilled the air once again…

"Damn you, Sully…" Spoke the blue-eyed stranger.

Heads whipped to face the speaker who continued to hold a lifeless Michaela in his arms. Stepping forward from the crowd, Jake spoke out. "And who exactly are you?"

Nodding his head once, the ordinarily dressed man adjusted his ranching hat out of his face. "Name's Daniel, Daniel Simons…" Daniel turned towards Colleen and Dorothy. "…I'm here, 'cause Sully sent me. He is a good…was, a good friend of mine, and I agreed to come back here when he asked…"

Colleen shook her head. "Why'd he ask ya to do that?"

"Yeah, and how were you able to just get up and leave, 'ssuming you met in the war right?" Jake inquired suspiciously.

Daniel shook his head. "Sully 'n I go way back…but yeah, we fought along side each other in the war…and he was worried 'bout this young lady, I guess" He gestured to the woman in his arms.

"Ya still never answered my first question…how'd you leave the war?" Jake persisted.

Daniel winced under Michaela's added weight as he tried to turn slightly. "Sully saved my life…but the docs couldn't save my leg…" As Daniel rotated on his good leg, the townspeople finally took notice of the crutch that Daniel leaned on and the absence of one limb. "…so I was sent home, 'cause I was useless on the battle field…problem was I didn't really have a home, 'cept the mines farther out west…but I couldn't really do much there either…"

"…So you came here when Sully requested it…" Dorothy finished his sentence.

Daniel nodded and winced again. "...I wonder if anyone could take her…my leg is giving out…"

Jake rushed to Daniel and took Michaela into his own arms. "We need to get her to the clinic..."

"I'll go with you…" Grace spoke up and put her arm around Colleen comfortingly as they walked behind Jake to the clinic.

"You'd better get over there too, Mr. Simons…Colleen might know what to give ya for your pain." Dorothy spoke kindly.

"Thank ya Ma'am…and ya can call me Daniel…" Rotating on his good leg, Daniel began to limp slowly back to town.

"Wait, let me help you…" Dorothy rushed to Daniel's side.

Grinning slightly, Daniel nodded. "Thanks, I'm fine though…" Seeing a hurt look flash across Dorothy's face, Daniel spoke quickly, "…but the company would be nice…"

Nodding with a smile, Dorothy escorted Daniel on his painful journey back across the field.

The curious crowd slowly dissipated back to their picnic blankets, yet not as joyfully as they had first come by. The reverend, unsure of what exactly to say, turned to his small children's chorus. "Um, Becky…would you please lead…um, just start us in the first piece…I…I have to go check on the doctor…"

Stepping from off of the small flat that was built to use as a stage, Becky raised her hands tentatively to her peers and began to sway them in a methodically cue.

"_Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord…"_

In the middle of the field stood Loren with Katie still wrapped up in his arms. "Oh my dear girl…these days never seem to get any brighter…"

Slowly walking back, Loren briefly glanced up at the plateau to see Brian, who remained motionless as he had since Michaela had fainted.

"Brian…?" Loren called to the boy.

Suddenly broken from his sleepless dream, Brian narrowed his eyes and looked in the direction from which he'd been called. However, when his eyes finally settled on Loren, instead of joining him as Loren inclined, Brian jumped from the stage and took off in the opposite direction.

"Brian! No, come back!" Loren called after the boy. With babe in hand and in his old age, Loren found himself stuck in the middle of that wretched meadow, unable to run after the boy and yet not wanting to go for help for fear of loosing sight of Brian and his direction.

"Wait! Dorothy!" Loren called across the meadow, while running carefully to catch up with her. "Oh Katie, I must say I feel sorry for you…you were born into a family that has a knack for makin' a lot of drama for themselves…" Loren whispered to the babe.

-- --

Gone…he was gone…her life, her world…everything was slipping away like sand slipping through the cracks of her fingers. There was nothing, nothing it seemed that was left for her. Extinct was her will… destroyed was her hope…no more, was the meaning that made Michaela continue to breathe, to rise each day…continue to love and cherish, and nurture…to live…

…_Non-existent were her dreams...without dreams there is no future…_

…_without future there is no life…_

…_without life…there is no point…_

…**_Without point…there is only being..._**

…**_and simply being, they say, is worse than death…_**

"Dr. Mike…?" Grace stood in the doorway, starring wearily at Michaela, unsure of what to do or say. "…I…I brought ya something' ta eat…"

When no response came, Grace hesitantly stepped fully into the room and walked to the end table, where she placed the tray she'd brought from her café. "…I wasn't sure what ya'd be in the mood for, so I just cooked up your favorite, fried chicken and some soup…"

Still Michaela remained motionless, gaze drawn straight to the opposite wall, without emotion, care, or life. Sad eyes looked down upon the inert woman, as Grace shook her head, sighing. "…Dr. Mike, I…" But the words wouldn't come…they couldn't come. The words of support and solace that Grace sought were non-existent.

Instead Grace rested her hands on either side of the end table, facing away from Michaela, and inhaled a shaky breath. "…Who am I kiddin', there ain't no words that I can tell ya that would ever make a difference…I know…I…" Grace shook her head. "…I know what it's like to lose the people ya care most 'bout…my mama and papa…both died slaves, when I was a young girl….I know it ain't the same, but they were everything I had…everything…"

Holding back a sob that begged to break from her pursed lips, Grace forced her mind to push away the memories she wished to never visit again, and continue. "…Dr. Mike, I also know…that there is life after tragedy…it ain't easy to find, nor is it quick to find…fact is that it's near impossible to find it in yourself. But Dr. Mike, if anyone could do it…it's you. I'm not tellin' ya we all expect ya to just to get up and go on with life…please don't think that…"

Feeling her words fluster and her rambling lengthen, the southern woman pursed her trembling lips and gathered her thoughts. "Dr. Mike what I'm trying to say is that ya got a whole town here that loves ya…some don't always show it…but fact is that most of us wouldn't be around today had it not been for ya…and we'll be here to help ya through this time. All ya gotta do is call…"

Not a tear fell nor eye flicker.

It would not happen today, nor the next, or even the near days to follow. Defeat struck Grace hard in the heart, and she was forced to turn on her heel and exit the room without another word.

The door shut, banging like a machete against steel, ringing in her ears. Taunting her, begging her, tearing at her disfigured spirit. Those words…every word said rang, yet none vibrated true…_a mask_ she knew…_a mask would be formed and take the place of all that saw her…while her interior burned in misery…_And Michaela was alone, forever in her world of deception and voids.

-- --

"Brian! Brian, now you come here boy!" Loren called out, running as fast as his legs would carry him through the narrow gaps of the trees. Squinting into the burning light of the sun, the old storekeeper searched the branches for the boy.

"Brian! Your ma's gonna be awful worried if you don't come out this instant!" Backing off, Loren looked down to the leaf strewn forest floor, speaking in soft tones, "…and she doesn't need to be any more upset than she already is…"

Looking up again at the sound of a twig snapping, Loren spotted the boy's foot sticking out from behind a bush. As he slowly approached the brush, Brian's soft sobs rang in his ears, and Loren knew the boy didn't want to be found just yet. Taking a seat on the soft earth, Loren leaned his aching back against a tree and waited.

Minutes passed into hours, and after what seemed like an eternity of listening to Brian's pitiful crying, Loren spoke softly. "I know this is hard Brian…Sully was…" Loren broke off, fighting his own inner demons. "…Sully was…a really good man…and I know you thought of him as the fatherly figure you never had but…"

"It's not that…" Brian's voice suddenly interrupted.

Shocked by the child's sudden entrance, Loren looked up to see Brian's tear-stained face peering between the branches. "…What do…?"

"…I mean it is…but…" Brian struggled to find the words to describe his emotions.

Seeing the boy's conflict, Loren offered up his hand. "Come here, son…why don't you sit over here instead of in that bush."

Hesitantly, yet willingly, Brian pushed himself up and walked over to where Loren sat. "…Now, why don't you just take it slowly…" Loren said consolingly as Brian joined him on the turf.

"…Well…I do miss Sully…but…" Brian stuttered as tears reentered his eyes.

"Just take it slow, son…"

"But…Mr. Bray, I don't want to lose another ma!" Brian's shell broke, as did the barrier that held up his tears. Resulting from his desperate need for reassurance, the distressed child buried his face in the store keeper's shoulder, sobbing out his pain and fear.

Having been caught off-guard by Brian's reaction, Loren softly patted the boy's back. "Oh son…why…you wont…why do you think you'd lose Dr. Mike?"

"You saw her, Mr. Bray…didn't you see her fall…didn't you see her face…"

"Brian, Dr. Mike is okay…er…well, I mean she…"Loren fumbled.

Brian raised and shook his head, while looking up into the rustling summer oak leaves. "…I've never seen Dr. Mike so sad, Mr. Bray…even when that David fellow died, and she was really all alone…" Bringing his gaze down to be eye-level with Loren, Brian spoke meekly, "…I'm afraid, Mr. Bray…I don't think Dr. Mike loves me anymore…"

"Oh Brian…" Loren sighed, futilely searching for words. "…Dr. Mike loves you like you were her own child…"

"No…she thinks she don't got no one else in the world left…but she got me...and she got Colleen...but we don't seem to matter…" Brian said pitifully.

Loren hesitated a beat before speaking again; ensuring that what he said would strike a chord in Brian. "…Well maybe ya just have to remind her Brian…"

"Remind her of what?"

"Remind her that she does have someone else in the world…right now I 'sume she's lost so many people that she loves, s'gotta be mighty hard to see what she still has left. Remember when your ma died…you didn't want to reach out to anyone…"

Brian nodded. "…I was afraid that anyone I loved would die or go away…"

"That's right…and then Dr. Mike made sure you knew that she wouldn't leave you...so maybe now it's your turn to reach out to Dr. Mike…make sure she knows you wont leave her…"

A few brief moments passed, where all that was heard was the sweet wind rippling through the leaves above them. "…Ya think it will work, Mr. Bray?"

Loren looked up at the sun-kissed leaves and said, "…To be quite honest Brian, I'm not sure…but it's gotta be better than nothin'…this town owes your ma a lot…it's high time we gave back to her…"

It wasn't the answer Brian wanted, but what he sought would only be a lie. So instead he was forced to nod again and stand as the pair headed back to town with a new task in pursuit.

--- ---

"Katherine bring me water…" Carmen spoke sharply as she began to examine the various cuts and bruises that ranged across the man's head and limbs. Eyes settling on the thorso, Carmen stared forelorningly at the heavily soiled jacket, which, having presumed to once be in the standard navy blue, now held a revolting brownish tint from the days of lying in stale mud. Hestitantly, her fingers began to work at the nickel-plated buttons, inch by inch pulling back the drentched wool, slowly unveiling the terribly discolored shirt beneath. What was once pure white had now become rich, disheartening scarlet; and while the shirt by itself was sickening, it was what lay underneath that truly haunted Carmen's mind. Ripping open the tattered shirt, the woman exposed the man's chest and gasped at the horrific sight.

"Oh my God…how did you survive all this time…" She breathed, as blood oozed from just below his left sholder…a shot so close to the heart...so close…

"…I need a doctor…"

"Here mama…" The little girl piped up, handing her mother a bucket of water.

Jumping at her daughter's reentrance, Carmen took the bucket and put it at the foot of the bed before placing her hands on Katherine's arms, ensuring that she had the child's full attention. "Katherine…I need you to find a doctor…I don't care where you must go…" Breaking eye contact momentarily, Carmen looked back at the dying man. "…this man needs a doctor…I don't know how to pull a bullet from this close to the heart…"

"But mama…all the doctors are helpin' the soldiers in camp…"

Closing her eyes, a single tear fell down her pale cheek, as Carmen kneeled in front of her daughter. "I know…but I need to you to try…anyone…just get a nurse or…get someone…otherwise, this man will die…"

Katherine looked upon the man with her tear-swollen eyes. "…Is it really Papa?"

Leading the child's face back to her own, Carmen spoke sternly though the lump in her throat. "Go, Katherine…"

Without another word the child tore out the door, running for whatever aid she could find. Carmen stood and slowly turned from the door, afraid to look at what might be behind her. Covering her mouth with her hand, the young woman fought back the sob that threatened to break at any given moment. She couldn't believe it..._at last..._

Kneeling again by the bed, Carmen took the man's bloody hand into her own, and prayed. "Oh John…don't you leave me now…not after I finally found you…"

* * *

_Thank you to all who continue to review! I appreiciate it more than anything! Once again, I appologize for the delays in chapter submissions. I'm afraid the life of an AP/IB student involves a hectic lifestyle ;D luckily exams are over now I just have four auditions to prepare for! ZOINKS! _

_Penny_


	16. Chapter 16: Embracing Deception

**Chapter 16: Embracing Deception**

**The dream lingered in his mind…**

"**_Come back to me…"_**

**It taunted him, crushed him, tormented him…**

"_**Come back to me…"**_

**Those words…that face…the confusion overwhelmed him…**

"_**You promised…"**_

**And then there came the mighty blow….**

* * *

His eyes shot open, revealing the swirling rafters above him. Squinting, he tried to focus his blurred vision, yet darkness seemed to cover the room. "Where am I…" 

Suddenly he was aware of the aching of his entire body. Taking in a sharp breath, he made to raise his hand to his head as pain shot through his temples. Crying out in pain, he instantly stopped as he felt the muscle of his shoulder sear at the quick movement.

Alerted by the moan from the main room, Katherine put down her book upon her mother's bed and pulled back the drape to look into the room. Her heart leapt at the sight of the man's slight movement. Jumping from her place on the bed, she quickly rushed to the bed side. "You're awake!" The young girl announced excitedly.

Squinting through the pain, the man looked upon the child. "Who…?"

"I'm Katherine…" she pronounced with exultation. "…And you're at our homestead right now, and you've been sleeping in my bed for the past week…but that's okay because I got my Papa back now!"

Perhaps it was Katherine's overly-exuberant air about her, but the young man found himself giving a weak smile, before perplexity took over again. "What…?"

"Katherine!" Came a startled cry from across the room.

Peering over Katherine's shoulder, the man became mesmerized by the silhouette of a woman standing on the threshold of the cabin. The light of day glared behind her, and the darkness of the room cast a shadow over her face. _It was her…_

"Katherine, I deliberately told you to come and get me the minute he woke up…" The young woman chastised her daughter as she moved from the doorway and into the darkened room. Quickly she went to the table in the middle of the room and struck a match to light the lamp sitting there.

"I'm sorry mama…" Katherine spoke solemnly.

"It's alright…now would you run to town and get the doctor, tell him he's awake…"

Katherine let out a slight moan. "Ah, ma…"

"Katherine! Please…that wasn't a request…"

Reluctantly, the young girl stood and trudged towards the door; yet before exiting she turned back. "Don't worry Papa, I'll be back soon…"

"Katherine!" The young woman gasped, and turned to look at the man's reaction. He, however, seemed completely oblivious, and simply stared at her through the dim light in a way that made her nerves dance. Snapping back into reality, she motioned to her daughter to go. "Hurry…and we're going to talk later tonight…"

With one last sigh, Katherine took off out the door and across the barnyard in the direction of town. Turning back to the table, the woman picked up the wooden pitcher and poured a small amount of water into a bowl, all the while feeling the hairs on her neck stand on end as his eyes never left her.

Despite the lamp, the woman's face always seemed to be in the shadows or turned from his view, which only taunted his desire to know who she was all the more. _Papa…_he had heard her correctly before as well…his confused mind swarmed as he tried to make sense of it all. The cool sensation of water on his forehead caused him to jump from his momentary trance, only to look into the eyes of whom he longed to see.

"Shhh…" She hushed softly, bringing the wet rag to his brow again. "…My name is Carmen…I'm not sure if you remember…"

"You…" The man breathed.

"I'm sorry?"

"You…I know…I remember…you…I…I loved you…" The man sputtered trying to make sense of everything. This made sense…it had to…_why else would her daughter call me that…why else would I dream of her…why else would she look at me like that?_

Carmen was stunned, in every sense of the word. What could she say? What was there really to say? While her mind told her she needed to set things right, a feeling deep within her yearned to play along. "…I'm…I…"

"I'm so glad I found you…" He sighed, raising his good arm to touch his finger to her cheek, as if ensuring she was real.

Sparks flew through her body at his soft touch, and she reveled in the moment, losing all thoughts to her desire. "I…I'm so glad you remembered, John." She smiled.

_John,_ he thought to himself, while returning her smile. Somewhere in the far reaches of his mind, a feeling of disappointment had come across him at the sight of her face, as if it was not the one he expected. Yet those feelings were lost from him as he basked in the sense of being home, an emotion he somehow knew had not been present in a long time.

* * *

It had been two weeks since the news had come. Two weeks of silence and blackness. Days pasted without recollection or knowledge, and sleep seldom came. When it did, it brought along with it nightmares that scarred her heart and prevented Michaela from dozing off again. After two days, Michaela surprised everyone by telling Grace that she wanted to go home. Although Dorothy and Colleen were hesitant, believing that seeing the homestead Sully had built might cause depression more than ease it; they gave in to her wishes, hoping that this was an improvement. 

However, they were vastly disappointed to see that immediately, Michaela went to her room and stayed there with the curtain drawn, laying in the darkness of her misery.

Brain, filled with hope after his talk with Loren, took it upon himself to be with her at every possible moment. He spent the day reading to her or simply talking to her. Brian did most of the talking while Michaela sat in silence, however he managed to extract a smile from her once when he told her about the time he brought a frog to church.

Despite her void state of mind, Michaela knew what he was doing. She knew what everyone was doing, or at least trying to do. However more than anything, all she wanted was to be alone. She wanted to disappear, to simply be forgotten…yet mostly, she wished that it her mind that could forget…her memories that could be erased. She wanted out. She needed out. To run...to just be away from it all. The clinic had become a cage to her, where she was constantly reminded of the death of her son, and yet the homestead, if anything, was worse.

And yet, where could she go? Where could she escape to? Boston? She had no one left there since her father and mother had died and Rebecca was sure to have her hands full with her twins. Simply running away into the woods had crossed her mind more that once, but she knew it was ludicrous, and despite her wish to simply perish, she could not leave Katie or Brian or Colleen alone to cope. She knew she was loved and needed…Brian had made sure of that…yet, she didn't want to be needed...she didn't want to be loved…and while she felt hypocritical, she could not seem to escape that fear of losing more…of hurting more. And between Brian, Colleen, and Dorothy, Michaela was forever reminded of all those who she'd lost, and all who had lost others, some under her own care.

The only way to escape, it seemed, was to give in to their wishes…or at least to appear to.

-- --

She stood at the window, looking out at everything and nothing. _What more was there to look at?_ She thought to herself. No, she couldn't think like that…she needed to hide it…she needed to prove them…even if that meant tricking them…

Moving away from the pane, Michaela removed her nightdress, shivering despite the warmth of the air around her. Bringing out her undergarments, her eyes settled on the black cloth that lay across the chest at the foot of her and Sully's bed…_her bed_. Swallowing down the lump in her throat, Michaela let out a shaky breath, willing herself to move towards it. Lightly, she grazed her fingers over the dress, knowing that the color did nothing to show the true breakage of her heart.

Brushing away a tear, Michaela took the dress into her hands and put it on.

* * *

Brian sat at the foot of the steps, waiting for Colleen to tell him it was alright to wake up his mother. For the past week he had done everything in his power to show Michaela how much she was loved by others and how much she was needed. He was beginning to doubt whether Michaela would see, but Grace told him he needed to be patient, and the fact that she had smiled once was a huge improvement. 

"How about now, Colleen?" Brian asked, as Colleen cracked an egg onto the skillet.

"Brian, I told you 5 minutes ago, wait until it's nine o'clock…Dr. Mike hasn't been sleepin' real well and she needs her rest."

"But she's so lonely…Ms. Grace even said that I was helpin' a lot…"

Exasperated, Colleen sighed and put the pan on the counter as she wiped her hands of the flour. Walking over to Brian, she put her hand gently on his shoulder and bent down to look at him straight in the eye. "Brian…you are helpin', I never said you weren't…but maybe you also need to give Dr. Mike some room…"

"But…!"

"Brian…you remember when ma died, and you wanted to have nothing to do with anyone…" Colleen interrupted, knowing that Brian wasn't looking at the full picture.

"Yeah but that only made things worse…I didn't start feeling any better until Dr. Mike talked to me about it…"

"Yeah, that's right…but did Dr. Mike force you to talk to her, or did she wait until you were ready to come to her?"

"I ain't forcing Ma to do anythin'!" Brian rebutted, his voice rising slightly.

"Brian shush!" Colleen chastised, before speaking calmly again. "That wasn't my question…did Dr. Mike wait for you to come to her or did she force you to talk to her?"

"She waited…" Brian grumbled. "But I just don't want Dr. Mike to think that no one loves her or cares…"

"And ya done a real nice job of doing that…but sometimes, Brian, people need their space, just to think things through. Ya know, I bet all that time you talked, you never gave her the chance to speak…" Colleen laughed.

"I tried at first, but she wasn't saying nothin'" Brian said quietly.

"…Right, but if ya didn't even give her a chance to speak, don't ya think you probably didn't give her much room for thought…I mean, with your runnin' mouth, it's taken me years to learn to drown you out, and I'm not sure if even Dr. Mike's that talented…"

"Hey!" Brian said with fake offence, then laughed along with his sister.

"Now I gotta get back to makin' breakfast, but do ya understand what I was sayin'?" Colleen said as she tickled him under the chin.

"Yeah I guess…can I go up and see her now?"

"Brian! Did you hear a word I just said?" Colleen threw her hands up and walked back to the stove.

"Yeah but I was just wonderin' if it was nine yet…"

"Brian, you can go tell her when breakfast is ready…maybe she'll actually come down…until then why don't you play with Katie, she's awful quiet over there."

Defeated, Brian picked himself off of the steps and walked over to Katie's day crib. "Hey Katie…maybe you know how to make our ma better?"

Colleen smiled to herself and continued to make breakfast.

"Hey Colleen…I think somethin's wrong…" Brian called over.

"What now Brian…" Colleen rolled her eyes, and continued to flip an egg.

"No really…it's Katie…she's real warm…"

Placing down her spoon, Colleen walked over to Katie's crib and touched the infant's forehead with the back of her fingers. "Oh my gosh, she's burning up…I'll go get Dr. Mike…go get water from the well…"

Brian nodded and raced out of the homestead. Turning away from the crib Colleen started towards the steps, nearly knocking Michaela over.

"Colleen!" Michaela cried out, grabbing the banister to retain her balance.

"Dr. Mike! What are you doing…" Colleen began, but suddenly stopped when she noticed the full black dress and pained eyes. She shook herself of questions, remembering why she was in such a rush to get upstairs. "Dr. Mike…something's wrong with Katie…"

The slight blush that had appeared on her cheeks after running into Colleen completely fled her face, making Michaela ghostly white.

"Dr. Mike?" Colleen grabbed her mother's arm to steady her.

"No…not Katie…" Michaela whimpered.

"Dr. Mike, ya gotta come look at her…she's burnin' up…" Colleen pulled on Michaela's arm; trying to snap her out of the trance she seemed to have lost herself in.

"No…no, I can't…I can't lose her too…this can't be happening…" Michaela refused to budge, as her free hand covered her mouth in terror. She hadn't stepped out of the house and she was already losing the battle to hide her emotions. It was too much…her heart was broken, her spirit disfigured, and now the pain was settling in on her mind…

"DR. MIKE!" Colleen screamed.

"Why…no please not my baby…"

Terrified herself, and out of ideas, Colleen backed away from Michaela and raised her right hand, bringing it swiftly across her mother's left cheek.

Silence smothered the room, as Colleen stood in shock of what she just did, and Michaela stood stunned, unsure of what just happened. Letting out the breath she was holding, Colleen spoke softly. "Ma…" Tears filled her eyes when Michaela did not answer. "Ma…?" She repeated a little louder.

As if everything had been flushed away, Michaela looked up into Colleen's eyes; and in seeing the tears there, she embraced her daughter.

Tears of joy and pain and stress all streamed down Colleen's face as she fully hugged Michaela. "I'm sorry…I'm so sorry, I…I didn't know what else to do…"

Michaela shook her head, tears cascading down her own cheeks. "No…no, thank you…thank you, thank you, thank you…I…I don't…I…" Michaela tried to explain herself as she pulled back slightly, still holding Colleen close in her arms. "…I am sorry…I don't really know what happened…"

Colleen smiled ever so slightly. "Sure ya do…we all do…" Michaela bowed her head, nodding. "…But Ma…it's ok to show that you're hurtin'…it is ok to talk to other people…we all know you're in a pain that is much more than emotional…most of us have lost someone…seems we've all lost a lot of people lately…"

Tears were falling steadily down Michaela's cheeks by now, and she nodded her head, knowing that Colleen's words were true. Suddenly, Michaela was filled with shame of her selfishness. She was not the only person who had lost Sully…she was not the only person who was effected by the loss of her son…and she was most certainly not the only person who had to live with the loss of Charlotte.

"I know right now ya need to be alone…and ya don't want to talk to anybody…but, if ya ever felt like ya could, would ya come and talk to me…cause I sure to need someone to talk to…" Colleen managed to get out, right before the tears overwhelmed her.

"Oh Colleen," Michaela embraced her again. "…I'm so sorry for not being there…yes of course I'll talk to you…I can't promise that I'll be a very good talker…but…"

Colleen shook her head, waiting for the tears to calm before she pulled back and spoke again. "No…like I said, you need your time…and if ya ever need to just go…to get out…we would understand…I can lock Brian in the barn if ya'd like…"

"Hey!" Brian called from the doorway, having just walked in.

"Brian go get some water" Colleen laughed, knowing that they needed just a few more minutes.

"What?! I just--"

"Well, go get more…"

Scowling, Brian stomped his foot and turned. "Fine!"

Both Colleen and Michaela laughed at his antics, before turning to each other. This time when Michaela spoke, her eyes did not appear so clouded by the pain, and a hint of pride shown that was directed towards her daughter. "Colleen you are wise beyond your years…someday you will make an excellent doctor…and a wonderful mother; which is something I can't seem to…" Michaela's voice trailed off, as her eyes narrowed in confusion. "…Wait…you sent Brian to fetch water before…?"

Colleen's mouth dropped as she felt the cold shiver of fear trickle down her spine. "Oh no…Katie!"

* * *

_Well, I could go on about how busy I've been, about the three auditions I've had in the past week, or the recording I'm screening this upcoming weekend with my quartet…but I'm starting to realize that's only part of the problem. First I need to thank everyone on the forum who constantly reviews; people like Lynn, Renny (of course), Sarah, Anny, Ash, Jessica, Alisha, Ashley, and Sullysgirl, you guys almost always leave a review, and even if you can't, you drop a note to say that you are reading (and I know I'm missing some names, these are just the first to come to mind). I guess what I'm getting at is that the last chapter received maybe three reviews, and I'm sorry but it's just a wee bit discouraging. Especially when I happen to know that that chapter got well over 100 hits, and something tells be that not everyone is like renny, who admits to reading each chapter three times, and even if that was the case and just the above people listed would only amount to 27 hits, not 100. I really don't mean to preach, but I would just like to mention the fact that I'd probably be a lot more inclined and motivated to work on chapters if I knew people were really reading and really enjoying. Ok, rant over…thank you for reading!!!!!! And please review (penny gets on hands and knees and begs) here, forum, blog, email, telepathically, whatever you want, I'm game!!!! _

_penny_


	17. Chapter 17: Crushed

_**Chapter 17: Crushed**_

**He stepped towards her, heart racing, nerves tingling. He wanted to know…he needed to know. "Is it you? Was it you?"**

**She shuddered. It was now…it had come. She could not breathe, she could not feel. Her spirit, her life, her existence was in his hands. His reaction would be her breaking point. "What does heart tell you?"**

* * *

A feeling of horror clutched the insides of Michaela's gut as her cheeks flushed again. This time however, she did not hesitate and moved quickly to the crib. "Colleen would you grab my medicine bag in the back room?" 

"Sure…"

Moving quickly, Michaela picked up her feverish daughter and laid her on the dinning room table. "Oh my darling…I am so sorry…" Colleen came back into the room, handing Michaela the black bag. "Thank you…now would you find your brother…tell him to hurry back with that water…"

Colleen nodded and ran out the door. "Brian! Brian where are you…?" Not seeing him anywhere, Colleen took off across the yard towards the well behind the barn, muttering under her breath. "I am gonna slap that boy upside the head for bein' so dumb…"

Rounding the corner of the barn, Colleen failed to look first and, for the second time that day, ran smack into someone she did not expect to see. "Ow!" Colleen cried, stunned as she fell to the ground. For a second she just sat upon the moss laden ground, dumbfounded as to how she landed there; then, lifting her gaze up slowly, she found herself face to face with Daniel, who stood leaning over his crutch before her.

"Oh dear, I'm sorry Miss Colleen, didn't mean to frighten ya." Using his stick for balance, Daniel offered his hand out to help the young woman up.

Colleen, however, glared at the extended limb, somehow disgusted by the polite gesture. Plastering a weak smile onto her ridged face, she gathered herself up. "No it's fine…sorry I ran into ya…"

Daniel watched the child struggle to rise, while a thousand questions raced through his mind; yet he pushed them quickly from the forefront of his mind. Instead, he attempted at a late recovery, bringing back the deserted hand while clearing his throat. "No damage done…I, um…I'd just come by to see how ya'll and you're mother were farin'…"

Brian poked his head out from around Daniel, holding the large water bucket in hand. "I was just tellin' him about how Ma's been up in her room all the time and how I've been talkin' to her and tellin' her stories…"

"Brian…" Colleen breathed angrily under her breath, knowing Michaela didn't want everyone knowing about her depression and also upset by Brian's delay with the water.

"Is all that true?" Daniel brought Colleen's attention back to him. "…Is Michaela, really doin' that badly?"

Colleen bit her tongue, just about ready to push Brian down into the well. Gritting her teeth, Colleen sighed and conjured up the best smile she could. "Dr. Mike, is doing just fine…and so are we…but Brian I need that water now!"

As Colleen went to snatch the water bucket from her brother, Daniel put his hand on her arm, stopping her. "Hey, hey…what's goin on? Why are ya so up tight…" Colleen remained quiet and kept her eyes fixed on Brian, ensuring that he wouldn't open his mouth. Daniel eyed both of them, unsure of how to take Colleen's enmity. "…Listen, Sully sent me back to take care of you guys…especially in the event that he couldn' retur—"

"Ya want to help!?!?" Colleen interrupted, grabbing the bucket from Brian and pulling him along with her away from Daniel and back towards the house.

"Ow! Colleen, let go of me!" Brian wiggled beneath.

Turning back she shouted venomously, "Ya can bring Sully back…'cause right he's the only one who could make Dr. Mike better…"

Daniel stood in utter shock of Colleen's sudden outbreak, while the children hurried into the homestead. For the life of him, he didn't understand why Colleen was so hostile towards him. Yet as her last words rang in his mind, things began to click. I wasn't the one who was supposed to survive…I should have been there to stop Sully…to save him.

* * *

**Shadows cast their veil over her pale skin, chilling the flesh that lay open to the night air. There was no color, no contrast in her eyes…no sparkle, or gem…they were merely dull and bland. Yet her beauty remained. Her beauty captivated his heart and stole his senses; which were only to be reclaimed by the sickening feeling of guilt that plunged in his gut. He was powerless; for there lay the woman of his dreams, but in order to meet her, meant breaking a bond that was sacred.**

**Again he watched her, as he had for the past weeks, staring so blankly at the star filled sky; the light failing to carry to her gaze. He wished to change that; more than anything, he desired to see a flicker, a beam. He wanted to see the smile that had stopped so many in their tracks, hear the laughter that filled this house once. Again it would ring; again there would be hope…**

* * *

"Well, it seems his health has improved beyond even what I thought possible…" Dr. Hackshawl spoke softly to Carmen as he packed up is instruments into his medical bag. 

Carmen looked away from John and Katherine, who were situated on the cot playing cards, and brought her gaze to meet the doctor's. "But his memory…"

"The concussion, it seems, has effected his long term memory...now there appears to be no more internal bleeding, but we'll of course have to take precaution…however…he has made survived what is considered the dangerous days…"

"Doctor…will he ever remember his old life?" Carmen reiterated to true meaning of her initial question.

The elderly man removed his wire-rimmed glasses to rub his sore eyes. "…Ms. Brachet…I honestly have no idea…in some miraculous occasions an individual will suddenly remember one thing and quite instantly have their life back…"

"But mostly…" Carmen pushed, needing to hear a dram of reassurance.

"…Mostly no…with each day the chances become slimmer and slimmer…my best advice for him would be to start out on a new and just make the best of his second chance at life…I know many who would say he was blessed to be able to simply forget his past…"

Carmen shifted uncomfortably, a twinge in the back of her gut reminding her that this man probably would not have said the same thing. "Well, thank you Doctor Hackshawl…I'm afraid I can only pay you half now, but the harvest will be brought in, hopefully in three weeks…I'll throw in a chicken for interest…I'm afraid I wasn't anticipating on these medical payments…"

Dr. Hackshawl waved his hand dismissing her need for apology. "It's quite alright Carmen…you caring for this man; well…I wouldn't have had the time to give him the proper nourishment and attention. Now, I'd best be off, have a good day…"

"Thank you…" Carmen nodded as she led the doctor to the cabin's exit, closing the door behind him. She stood at the door for a few minutes, afraid to turn…afraid that he would see, see it all in her eyes…that he would know in that mere glance, when hazel met blue… dropping her hand into her front pocket, she revealed a roughly handled photograph. She stared at the frayed paper, haunted by those joyful eyes blazing from the couple before her. She had seen and felt that ecstasy once herself, but it had slipped away; leaving her heartbroken and alone. An abandoned child in the darkness of night. The shadows of her past triggered emotions she had long thought deceased, causing tears to well in her hazel gaze; tears that had been dried, but never forgotten, for a year now.

Drying her sorrows, she continued to look upon the hated portrait, unable to pull her eyes away from the agonizing scene. Those orbs mocked her pain, sending venom into her fingertips as she crushed the parchment, hoping to rip the bliss from their eyes. Yet, try as she might, her hands failed to shred the paper; as if some mystical power refused her the delighted pleasure. Defeated by an unknown force and a piece of paper, she sank to the ground, ashamed and wounded.

What was she doing? Where had these thoughts come from? She who had lost her husband, wished to take away one from another…had she lost herself that much? Had solitude caused her to fall so far out of faith and mind?

"Mama…?" Katherine's voice broke Carmen from her contemplation. "…Mama, what's wrong? Why are you crying?" Katherine had now jumped from the bed and was racing to her mother's side.

Thoroughly embarrassed, Carmen stashed the photograph into her pocket before anyone saw it, and began to wipe away the tears upon her face. "I'm fine sweet heart…I…"

"Carmen…" His mere voice grabbed her by the throat, choking her…the innocence in his tone pelted at her gut twisting it inside out with guilt and torment. "Carmen…are you alright…ahh!"

"John! What are you doing?" Carmen immediately rose and rushed to catch the falling man. "You heard the doctor, you shouldn't get out of bed for at least another week and even then it should be slowly….what gave you the idea you could walk?"

Sighing, John reluctantly sat back on the cot. "I was coming to make sure you were alright…"

"I was fine…I just…Still, you can't just get up like that…with one broken ankle and the opposite knee fractured…"

"I noticed…" John said curtly. "…and why are you being so short?"

Before she spoke again, Carmen let out a light breath and continued more calmly. "…I'm sorry, John…I just don't….I don't want…t…to…to lose you….agian…"

John released his own held breath and reached for Carmen's hand. "I'm sorry too…but…Carmen…what, what did the doc say? And why couldn't he say the same to me…"

"I don't…"

"Don't pretend…I saw you two by the door whispering…what was that about? Is there something I should know?" John pushed, knowing that there was something about the whole situation that he had not yet grasped.

Carmen's lip trembled. Do it now…stop…before it's too late…tell him…

"John…I….The doctor was astounded by your recovery…"

"Carmen…" John interrupted. "You and I both know that's not what I was asking…tell me the truth…the whole truth…"

He knows…what do I do…I have to tell him…oh God, please help me… "I'm so sorry John…the doctor…he said you probably would not regain your memory…and in my selfishness I…"

"No…" John again interrupted Carmen's sobs, "…no, it wasn't it wasn't selfishness…I understand…"

"What? No, I…let me explain…" Carmen begged, seeing that he was not understanding her.

But John shook his head. "There's no need…I know this is all hard for you…I mean…I can't even remember you…I can't remember our wedding, God, I can't even remember the birth of our child…"

"No, John…there's still…"

"Hope…yes I know…" He sighed. "…And we still have a life a head of us to make…memories to make…"

Carmen entire body trembled with each sob; she was failing. "John, please…"

"And yet through it all…I still managed to remember my love for you…I've felt it always…even as I lay unconscious in that pit…it was that love that kept me going…that need to get to you…"

Carmen shook her head and cast her gaze down, unable to create any more words with her quaking features.

"For the past few weeks I've had these dreams…dreams of you…" John brought his free hand to caress her shaking cheek. "'Though I couldn't see your face…I always knew it was you…somehow…I knew…as you called out to me…"  
Slowly, he raised her lowered chin up until the blue of his eyes calmed the redness of her tear-stricken orbs. "I love you

Carmen…" John hushed, as he leaned in, ever so carefully, ever so gradually…until their lips were a breath a part. And then they touched.

She melted.

He remained.

By some whim of an evil spirit, a thought entered the back of her mind, sending shivers down her spine. A wicked smile crossed her porcelain face, and a malevolent darkness stirred in her eyes. If I am not to destroy it…then at least I can hide it…  
Her hand lay in her pocket, clutching a single piece of paper.

* * *

* * *

I suppose there's no point in me even apologizing, I know I've said it so many times...but things have just been way too busy for me to even manage...I'm in my senior year of high school, which everyone told me would be a break year...well it certainly has not been...I'm going into music performance, which means college apps and college auditions...just the due to the auditions I can expect to miss about two weeks of school or more...and with AP gov't and senior thesis project weighing over my shoulder...well...it's just been stressful. But I hope despite the tardiness of this chapter, and the stress it took to finally get it up, that you still enjoyed it. please review!!! thanks! penny 


	18. Chapter 18: Scarlet

**Chapter 18: Scarlet**

A child's laughter broke the couple apart. "Ma and Papa are happy now?" Katherine beamed.

Carmen blushed feverishly, jumping up from the cot and walking briskly to the stove where she absently stirred the simmering soup; averting her eyes purposely away from John's intense gaze.

He stared at her momentarily, noting the stiffness of her form, the harshness with which she stirred, and the slight twitch of her nose as a tear silently pelted down her fair cheek.

"Why is Mama sad, Papa? Katherine's voice interrupted John's thought.

"Stop calling him that Katherine!" Carmen suddenly shrieked from across the room as she threw the wooden spoon down into the soup pan. The red liquid splattered onto herself and the glowing embers, evoking an angry hiss in response.

Tears now reddened the cheeks of two present, as daughter looked at mother, each sharing a glance that broke hearts and spirits.

John sat utterly bewildered on the cot, staring back and forth between the two crying ladies. "Katherine…" He whispered gently, slowly reaching out to her shoulder. Yet just as he grazed the fabric of her puffed sleeve, Katherine pulled away and ran out the cabin, slamming the door behind her.

A moment of horrible silence lingered following the disheartening resound. John's gaze migrated from the closed portal back to the silently sobbing woman, who had quickly turned to her previous position at the stove. Anger and confusion simmered in the base of his gut, causing his nostrils to flare slightly as his breathing swelled. "Why did you say that?"

No response followed but the distinct shuddering of her entire figure.

Glancing around briefly, John harnessed his emotions to motivate his crippled legs; forcing himself upright, and off of the bed, despite the anguish and torture that ran through every muscle in his lower half. Gritting his teeth, he lifted one foot. Indescribable agony shot through his opposite limb, yet he forced himself to remain silent. Again he stepped, and again, and again, slowly yet silently making the torturous journey across the wooden planks. Pain rippled through him, like wildfire attacking a brush.

His voyage went unnoticed until he trod upon a loose floorboard, and its creak detonated the heightened silence, catching Carmen's immediate attention. "John, no!" She cried softly, rushing to his side.

But John pushed away her helping hands, before speaking sternly, eye to eye, mind to mind. "No! Don't touch me! Not until you've explained to me why you just said that to our daughter."

Again the moments were filled with silence, as Carmen dropped her gaze and tears burned her eyes again.

Her pained withdrawal angered John all the more, as his voice rose along with his articulation. "…Do you doubt that I love you or Katherine enough…is this because I wasn't able to be here for you…that I was out dying for you…or more, fighting death to come back to you?"

"No…no…" Carmen sobbed pathetically into her hands.

"Then what is it?!" John grabbed Carmen's shoulders, mostly to catch her eyesight, but also because he felt his legs failing him. He spoke again, with the same volume and precision, yet this time his tone was somehow softer and calmer. "…I know I am not the same man that you kissed good-bye…that same man who you married…but I can't remember that man…God knows I wish I could…"

Carmen's watering eyes met John's, and for a second he thought that she might speak, that she would give in to whatever nightmares haunted her thoughts and worries. But that flicker of hope never revealed itself, and the room fell in hush again, save for the crackling embers of the stove.

John sighed, never releasing his grip on her upper arms. "…Please…" He whispered, searching again for her eyes, which had traveled to the floor.

"No…" Carmen finally spoke. "…Just…no…you can't…"

"What can't I?" John begged. "…Remember him? Remember me? No, I can't…not alone…but you can…"

Carmen shook her head, tears cascading uncontrollably down her face.

"Yes…yes, you can…I know it's not as it should be…but you can be my memory…" John said enthusiastically, hoping to somehow get through to her. "…You can help me remember…"

"No…please…no…" Carmen cried, as she grasped onto John's arms. "I…I can't let you continue…on like this…"

"What…what do you mean?"

"I…." But before she could finish, her sobs gained control again and she was unable to speak.

"You what? Carmen…I love you…please, believe me…" John pleaded. "I…I've remembered some things…small…and distant…but I can feel the memories coming back…I know I can…"

At this, Carmen looked up into his blue orbs, still heaving in breaths.

Seeing her reaction, John gritted his teeth in a smile of sorts, as his legs wobbled uncontrollably beneath him. "…Yes…I'm remembering things…I…I remember a city…with buildings that stretched to the sky, rubbing the clouds…I was cold and hungry there…but…I was somehow happy…until…until…"

His voice trailed off as he racked his brain for the answers. "…until….she…she died…"

Carmen remained silent, save for the occasional hiccup and light heave, in rapt attention, wondering if this was it…if he would recall, everything…

-- -- --  
Her footsteps echoed throughout the lower floor as she paced across the creaking floorboards. Medical-book in hand, Michaela's eyes seared each page, searching for answers; searching for hope. She knew only what was not present, and only that could bring the young mother any peace of mind. But it was the unknown that haunted her gut.

Forcing her eyes up from the text, Michaela glanced at her daughter who lay quite still on the dining table. "Katie…please, what is wrong…what do you have…" She rushed back to the table and quickly unswaddled the babe.

Her gasp silenced the room as the doctor's eyes traveled over the reddened skin. "…A rash…" Michaela breathed, as she rushed to the door.

-- -- --

_There was so much that could have been done to prevent it, so many times she could have…__**should**__ have been there to watch for symptoms…And yet as she read from the medical text that draped across her lap, Michaela realized more and more that there was little she could have done, little she would have noticed…_

…_But little did that matter…the point was that she had been absent from Katie at a time in which her health was both critical and delicate. _

"_I'm so sorry Katie…I promise you, for as long as I live…I will always be here for you…never again will I leave any one of my children stranded without a mother…" Michaela kissed her daughter's warm forehead._

-- -- --

Daniel watched as the two children walked briskly to the door, leaving him in solitude upon the dusty road. Guilt and resentment, far greater than what was felt within the Quinn household, pained Daniel's heart. He wanted nothing more than to die right then and there…if only it would bring Sully back to the family that so earnestly needed him.

Unable to gaze upon the disheartened homestead any longer, the crippled cowboy awkwardly threw himself upon his horse and turned to the open trail. Yet just as he began the journey back to town, the sound of a door flying open and a withering cry caught his ear. Rotating quickly to locate the call, Daniel saw Michaela standing in the doorway, eyes watering and knees shaking.

-- -- --

_Who is she?"_

Her heart broke.

"_I don't know…"_

_He turned._

"_I'm sorry…"_

"_Like Hell you are…"_

"_Truly…I deserve to have my life taken from me…"_

"No…no one deserves that; I'll be the first to tell you."

_And he left with the wind._

-- -- --

_More to come quite soon! Please review! Thank you! Penny_


	19. Chapter 19: Etchings of the Mind

**Chapter 19: Etchings of the Mind**

_**1855: North Carolinian Field**_

"_Say you'll never leave me…"_

"_Together, forever...I promise you…"_

_The sun shone brightly on the young couple's faces, illuminating the radiant glow of bliss that already beamed from their smiles. They were together, and for the time being, this moment would last forever…_

_His blue eyes pierced the hazel outline of her own; finding her soul and all of its desires lying before him. Gently, yet urgently their lips brushed against each other. Ignition. _

_In that moment, they cared not for the reprehensibility of their excursion. They cared not for the family lost due to their relationship. They cared not for the trials ahead, so long as the battle would be fought alongside one another. The cared only for each other; for the wind that brushed their sweating brows, and the grain which hid them from a spectator's view. _

_Although found they were; as souls became one, lost were they truly, as a battle raged on._

-- -- --

"_Get out!" His voice penetrated the deepest bindings of her heart._

"_Please Papa! Please, just listen…" Her hazel eyes blurred behind salted tears, reddening with each syllable that her father spoke._

"_No! I won't hear another word!" The burly man threw the text book he was reading down upon the desk, shaking the floorboard and the stability of the young woman before him. "I never wish to hear another word from you….ever…"_

"_NO! Papa! Please…please…." She sobbed, dropping to her knees, unable to withstand the tremor that ran through her like a lightning bolt. _

_The man turned from his cowering child, unable to look upon that face as he spoke again. "Get out…get out and never return…"_

"_Papa" Strong, soothing arms engulfed her, and attempted to lift her from behind, but she resisted._

"_Get out! You are no daughter of mine you….you traitorous whore….you are not welcome within these walls ever again!" He spoke vehemently, and yet his heart was feeble to his daughter cries; ultimately his mind and societal priorities won the battle between unconditional love and conventional image. The father turned again, never looking at the woman crouched before him like a beaten child, and withdrew himself from the room._

_The daughter's cries grew at this action. "No, no papa! Papa! Don't leave me…please! I beg you…I beg you for forgiveness, please…"_

"_Darling…it's ok…it's ok…we have to go now…don't worry it'll be alright…" A comforting voice whispered in her ear as she was picked up and carried from the room. Glancing at everything, somehow knowing that this would be the last time she ever saw the home she had grown up in, her eyes finally came to rest on a darkened corner. From the shadows a figure moved ever so slightly, causing the girl to whisper a final farewell as she was carried out the door. _

"_I love you, Mama…"_

_She was gone._

_The elderly woman stepped from her place in the shadows and gracefully, yet swiftly strode to the desk on the opposite side of the room. Rummaging quickly for the item she sought to find, her delicate fingers ran across a cool surface. Bringing up the dazzling object, green met green as she stared into the reflective surface, willing herself to pursue the fate she so desired. __The connection dissipated with a mere flicker of her eye_, _and__ she drove the metal into her gut._

_There was no scream, as it was muffled by the pain that tormented her heart. And then there was blackness._

-- -- --

"_Do you, Jonathan, take Carmen as your lawfully wedded wife, to love and to serve…?" The minister's voice echoed in the hollowed sanctuary. _

_On a day of praise, glory, and happiness, tears rained from her cheeks. Empty. Everything was empty. The church, her heart, and at times her soul. Carmen glanced out into the dimly lit room, her eyes scanning the unfilled pews, wishing to see only a single pair of eyes. Those deep brown eyes that calmed her mind, and blessed her spirit. But they were absent from the dwelling. And she was forced to bring her gaze to meet that of the man before her._

_He smiled slightly at her, comforting her; telling her that everything would be alright. That they, together, would overcome any obstacle; that together, they would survive. Those azure eyes pierced the bindings that held her captivated in agony, releasing her from pain that threatened her spirit. She smiled back, as his hand held hers, slipping a golden band across her finger. _

"_I now pronounce you man and wife; you may kiss the bride…" The pastor closed his bible and stepped away from the couple. _

_In the moment in which their lips became one and souls touched, Carmen at long last felt the weight of guilt lifted from her shoulders, and the warmth of love in her heart._

_It was true…together, they could do anything._

-- -- --

_**1856: Pennsylvanian Plains**_

_The wind whipped like thousands of microscopic daggers at their exposed skin. She held the swaddled babe close to her breast, trying to keep it safe from nature's wrath while sacrificing her own limited body heat. Gazing across at the barren landscape, blanketed by a heavy sheet of ice and snow, the family made the pilgrimage to their new home._

_Her father was dead, not a month after the dramatic passing of her mother. No forgiveness had ever been exchanged, although, unbeknownst to the opposing members both parties had been willing; neither had possessed the courage to call on the other, and so, the memories of a daughter's tears and a father's stubborn ignorance were to be the last either one could recall. _

_Carmen knew she needed to move on. She needed to find closure, and begin her new life with her blossoming family. That autumn, Carmen found her release. _

_When their crops failed and they found themselves nearly penny-less, John was forced to make the decision to move. They sold their farm and embarked on a journey to a less populated town a few hundred miles north of their hometown, where land prices were low and soil was still fertile._

_Their new homestead was located on a patch of land less than a mile from Gettysburg, and yet due to the hilly terrain, which was less than ideal for crops, John managed to purchase it for a bargain. Having lived all his life in the mountains and foothills of North Carolina, he knew the tricks of building up a crop within these conditions. _

"_Are we almost there darling? He's so cold…I don't think he's going to make it…" Carmen's voice cried over the howling winds. "And we're running so low on food…I haven't been able to…to…"_

_His eyes bled over hers, offering the comfort she so desired. "Don't worry…just a few more hours…we're almost there…if this wind would just die down, we could make it there in thirty minutes…but…"_

"_Doesn't seem like that's gonna happen…" Carmen gave her husband a weak smile of encouragement._

_He returned the smile and nodded as he turned to face the open road. As a particularly bitter wind hurled past them, Carmen braced the still body closer to her chest._

-- -- --

_**1857:**_

_It had been a year. A cold, heartless, miserable year. They had lost him. They had lost him when they were so close to warmth; so close to safety; so close to surviving. But they weren't there. They didn't make it, or more, he didn't make it. _

_Instead of unpacking the many bags and crates, the first thing they did when they arrived at their new home, was bury their son. Around the back of the barn, about a hundred feet away, there stood a clearing in the thicket. There, there lay forever a new born babe, whose grave was marked by a small collection of rocks; the only thing present at the time of their arrival._

_It wasn't until many years later that a cross would be made to distinguish the child's grave from his father's._

_And yet there had been hope on the horizon; John had chosen to plant corn that season, rather than wheat. While the terrain made it incredibly difficult, the crop was able to survive through the harsh weather, unlike most farms in the surrounding area. The young couple managed to make a profit that would sustain them through the year._

_Sustain, however, was a definition of supply and resources; not of joy. Carmen had fallen into a deep depression. Life was cloaked by heartbreak, and guilt rained upon her broken spirit. It was not until months later, after weeks of torture, pain, and suffering that Carmen allowed for a smile to spread across her lips._

_It was small, and to the average individual, it resembled more of the twitch than a smile. Yet it was John who saw it. It was John who knew the ice was thinning, that the winter was ending…but perhaps, that's because it was John who initiated the smile with one small phrase…_

"…_Together, we can do anything…"_

-- -- --

_**1858:**_

"_Katherine…we'll call her Katherine…after your mother…"_

"_Katherine…" She held the baby up close to her face, taking in the beauty of child before her; a child created from love, true and great. "She's so beautiful…"_

_Carmen's eyes wandered from the babe, as his hand grazed first across her cheek, then Katherine's. "She get's that from you, ya know…"_

_She smiled, modest and coy, yet happy. So, so happy. After so much heartache, Carmen never could have imagined that joy would run through her veins again. And yet it did, and it would…for another year…_

-- -- --

**1860:**

"_What do you mean you have to go?" _

"_Carmen, you know what I mean…we've been through this…"_

"_No we haven't! Every time I try to question it, you…you change the subject…you say there's nothing else to be said…"_

"_There isn't anything else to be said!"_

"_How can you say that?! How can leave like this…with no explanation…not a real one anyways…"_

"_So you're saying that doin' my civic duties for my country isn't a real reason?"_

"_No…that's…that's not what I meant…but what about your responsibilities to Katherine…what about to me…what about your promise…"_

_Silence._

"_Don't ya see? You're leavin' us…you're leavin' Katherine...she could…she may grow up, and never really meet her papa…"_

"_That ain't gonna happen…"_

"_How'd ya know...?"_

"_Because I made a promise to ya, Carmen…We will be together…we will endure…"_

_Silence…_

"_Please…Carmen, I need ya to be with me on this…I can't leave without knowin' you believe me…"_

"_How can you know…you're not God…you don't have the power to decide who lives and who dies…how can you make such promises…promises that could mean nothin'?"_

"…_Because they don't mean nothin'…because I know what's in my heart…and nothin' is gonna take that away…not a thousand rainin' bullets…not cannons or spears…"_

_His finger outlined the bottom of her chin, raising her eyes to meet with his._

"…_I love you, Carmen…I won't leave you…and I won't leave Katherine…We will be together…just you wait and see…"_

-- -- --

_**December, 1862:**_

"_Dear Ms. Brachet. __We regret to inform you that your husband has been declared 'Missing in Action', and is thought to be dead since his recent station of duty during the battle of South Mountain, on October 19__th__, 1862 in the hills of Maryland…"_

…_Together, forever…_

…_Another promise…_

…_Forgotten…_

-- -- --

_The lids of his eyes fell back. "No, stay with me…that's it….just stay with me…"_

"_Who…" His eyes flickered open…_

_Piercing was not the word. Gauging could not describe it. Ripping, tearing, stabbing, biting, burning all at once. Her heart, so alone, so tired, so lifeless, was injected with hope for a mere second. _

"_Shh…my name is Carmen Brachet…I'm going to take care of you…don't worry, just stay with me…"_

_Those eyes…those haunting, evocative eyes…_

"_No…who…"_

"…_Shh…no…please…stay with me…don't leave…don't…" Carmen hesitantly rand her fingertips lightly across his scarred face, tears blurring her vision. "Please, oh God…let him be well…let him survive…let him…"_

_Her final prayer was cut off, as she noticed a small crumpled piece of paper clutched in his fist. Slowly she removed the parchment from his relaxed grasp, revealing to her the truth that murdered her; heart, spirit, and mind. _

_-- -- --_

Thanks for reading! Please review! More to come soon!


	20. Chapter 20: Resentment

**Chapter 20: Resentment **

_**July 21**__**st**__**, 1863**_

She cooed quietly into the babe's ear, singing a soft lullaby. There was nothing more that she could do. Just wait…

In hindsight, Michaela kicked herself for not having been attentive enough to her own child, or children, moreover. _There was so much that could have been done to prevent it, so many times she could have…__**should**__ have been there to watch for symptoms…_And yet as she read from the medical text positioned across her lap, Michaela realized more and more that there was little she could have done, little she would have noticed…

But little did that matter…the point was that she had been absent from Katie at a time in which her health was both critical and delicate.

"I'm so sorry Katie…I promise you, for as long as I live…I will always be here for you…never again will I leave any one of my children stranded without a mother…" Michaela kissed her daughter's warm forehead.

Her eyes wandered from the infant's sleeping face and returned to the page she'd been previously reading. "German Measles," Michaela read aloud, "is a common, yet mild disease that has been known in some cases to pass through patients without notice, while in others display symptoms of fever, swollen glands, joint pain, headache, conjunctivitis, and a wide spread rash."

It had been the rash that gave it away to Michaela, and allowed her to breathe more easily. While unseen by either Colleen or Brian, upon removing the child's dressings, the doctor had found the patches of reddened skin. Although still fearful for the potential diagnosis of Scarlet Fever or Malaria, Michaela examined the irritations more closely to find that their characteristics matched the description of the mild Measles much closer.

"Well, that's a good sign...right?" A deep voice interrupted Michaela's scattered thoughts.

Rotating gently in the rocking chair, so as to not wake the sleeping baby, Michaela peered into the shadowed contour of the room as a figure stepped into the light. "Yes...yes, it is a good sign..." Michaela spoke softly, her eyes dropping from the solitary individual who slowly walked towards the mother and child.

"But...?" The man inquired.

Pausing momentarily, Michaela gazed down upon her ill child. "But...I can't be sure...these diseases have a tendency to change in a matter of hours..."

She blinked past the tears that had begun to swell in her hazel orbs; doing everything possible to exude strength to her guest. Sighing softly, Michaela extended her hand to the man who had now journeyed to her side. He embraced the tender limb, and his unwavering gaze captured hers.

The bright-blue spheres brought chills to both present, however the emotional basis differed between them. Michaela was haunted by his steadfast stare...not in a way that caused fear to arise, but his mere gaze made Michaela uncomfortably aware of his feelings. And although she felt that there could perhaps be something, somewhere, it was not to be today, or in a week, or in a month. No, she was not ready. And there was the possibility that she may never be ready.

_**

* * *

**_

July 29_**th**__**, 1863**_

Ants marched in a single file line across the picnic blanket before being brushed away by the young woman's hand. Carmen sat alone, lost in her own thoughts and confusion as she laid out the utensils and dishes for lunch. Trills of laughter emanated from the nearby thicket, interrupting her thought process momentarily. Sighing slightly, Carmen closed her eyes in an attempt to hold back the tears.

She wanted it to be him. She wanted to defy the allegations that the military had so coldly displayed to her; to prove that the hope she still clung to was not a vain effort. She needed it to be him. She needed it so that she could survive just one more day without battling the heartache that wished to vanquish her spirit completely. And yet, she knew it wasn't him; it couldn't be him, no matter how much she wished, or wanted, or needed.

The sight of his eyes had filled her heart with joy upon first seeing him. And it was no wonder that Katherine had mistaken his form for her father's; she had been little, less than two years old when she last saw him, and the man who had laid in that ditch shared the height and basic physic of her husband. However, it was his hair that told her the true story. Her John's golden waves were so distinguishable, that even beneath dirt, blood and grime, she could have recognized it.

Despite this knowledge, she allowed her mind to imagine that the brown, sun-kissed locks of this man were simply a result of years buried in trenches; she could wash away the truth, and discover her heart's lone desire. Even after she cleaned the hair, multiple times, cut it to a reasonable length and let it dry, leaving no doubt as to original color, Carmen would not let her expectations be dropped so quickly.

After five days of contemplating the various ways to prove that this man was indeed John, Carmen came across the dagger which pierced her heart. It was soiled, and bloodstained, crumpled and indistinct; however, it bore more meaning than any memory that would arise in the near days to follow. The photograph.

Upon discovering it, Carmen examined every square inch to ensure it belonged to the man before her and was not, as she dearly hoped, property of another fellow soldier, lost or fallen in battle. The back was bare, save for the stains of war and a penned date in the upper left-hand corner; May 20th, 1862. A more thorough observation revealed that there had at one time been more writing below the date, perhaps a description or names of the individuals posed on the opposite side; however it had been weathered away so much that little more than a black smudge remained.

Turning the picture right-side-up, Carmen squinted in an attempt to recognize any distinct characteristics of either human displayed. It was obvious that it was a wedding photograph, as both individuals wore exceptional garments and the woman held a small bouquet. Their faces, however, were less distinct as bits of the ink had been worn away through time. After hours of looking in all levels and sources of light, Carmen found that it was indeed property of the unconscious man lying in her daughter's cot.

Although black and white, the photograph seemed to produce an exception when it came to the gentleman's eyes. The joy within them pierced through the line that divided a captured moment from the viewer; and while not a drop of blue was present upon the page, the striking color seemed to appear without reason, starring up at Carmen, mocking her.

She knew then she should place it back in his hand, she should forget all her thoughts and desires for him to be her love, and for all to be well. She stood at the foot of the bed, tears running down her cheeks, faster and fuller than they had in months. This, she knew, had been the last chance, the final hope. Gripping her stomach with her fist, Carmen leaned over the bed, carefully placing the picture in the palm of the nameless man.

Later that day he awoke for the first time, with Katherine by his side. Carmen walked in seconds later, having spent the morning cleaning out the barn, hiding her tears in the hay. She was expecting his confusion, his disorientation, and more than anything, she was expecting him to find the photograph. But he didn't. Someone else had.

-- -- --

_**July 13**__**th**__**, 1863**_

_Katherine sat motionless, in absolute awe and splendor of what lay before her. It was a future, it was her past, it was all she ever asked for, ever prayed for. All this lay here in a simple man, a simple individual, a simple father…at last, her mother's smile would brighten the room again, at last she would finally find her long lost friend. Oh what a day it was, oh what a happy, happy day._

_Until a piece of paper caught her eye and curiosity overthrew common courtesy. Children rarely see the significance in items they cannot understand or are uninterested in. Besides, not a minute had passed since she snatched the photograph, than the man's eyes fluttered open, immediately captivating the girl's attention. The photograph drifted to the earth, left, forgotten, beneath the bedside table. _

-- -- --

_**July 29**__**th**__**, 1863**_

Carmen sighed again, recalling the moments that followed his initial awakening. She had meant to ask him about the picture, about his life; but his confusion was much more extreme than she had predicted. And so for an instant, she allowed for the false hope to get the better of her. What she did not realize was that in that moment she had chosen a path she could not turn back from.

Now she sat upon the empty blanket, resenting her momentary lack in judgment.

-- -- --

"Tag you're it!" Katherine giggled, as she fled from her newly found friend.

He laughed at the child's antics, sighing before turning to face a tree trunk. "One, two, three…"

In the weeks since he had regained consciousness, he had become completely infatuated with Katherine; her smile, her laugh, everything. The young man found himself wanting nothing more than seeing her happy. John, as he had grown use to, felt so ready to be her father; and yet, he could not convince Carmen of it.

She was so distant, so vague. John wished so dearly to make her open up, to find out what was bothering her. But every time he tried, she turned from him and refused to speak. Every time, his heart sunk in his chest, as guilt bubbled from deep within his gut.

He had not been able to remember any more of his past after their fight the day before and he resented even bringing it up. Carmen, if anything, had become even more reserved, almost to the point that John was fearful for her health. While Katherine informed him that this behavior was quite normal for her mother, John had an inkling that there had been, perhaps years ago, a time when this was not the case.

"…twenty-seven…twenty-eight…..twenty-nine…thirty, ready or not here I come…" John hollered over his shoulder as he turned from the tree. Rotating slowly, his eyes suddenly seemed drawn upwards, where they were blinded by the sun's bright rays.

Pain rippled through his temples, as he fell to his knees, holding his head in his hands. Wave upon wave of agony tore at his forehead as he squinted past the light. His eyes, sensitive from the sudden migraine attack, were forced shut, as he fell to his side, feeling the cool dew blanketed grass brush upon his fevered brow.

It was little more than an instant, and then, the pain was gone. Vanished without a trace. And yet…it left more than just a dull ringing in John's ears.

"…This is wrong…this….this is not…" The young man gazed around at his surroundings, breathing in the Appalachian forest air. Without reason, he stood up, and began to walk towards the homestead, muttering under his breath, "…this…this is not where I'm suppose to be…"

* * *

"Ya gave us quite a scare there Katie…" Colleen smiled down at the healthy babe, sleeping softly in her arms. "So…she's all better…right Dr. Mike?"

Michaela smiled slightly, clearing the final dinner dish from the table. "Yes…it would appear so…German measles are a very common and fairly mild disease, in some cases there are no side effects whatsoever, and typically it is completely gone within a week…"

"Here, let me get that…" Daniel offered, taking the bowl from Michaela.

"Oh please no…I can do that...you're a guest here…" Michaela shook her head, trying to take back the bowl.

"Nah, uh…" Daniel held the dish aloft, far from Michaela's reach, smiling as he continued. "No, you need to sit Michaela, relax…go on…ya've been going constantly…takin' care of Katie and entertainin' Brian…"

"Well, you did a pretty nice job of handling that task on your own…" Michaela's smile widened.

Daniel glanced over at the boy, who sat by the fire, whittling himself a flute. "Well…he's pretty easy to entertain…just a little attention goes a long way…"

"…Oh dear, I am going to need to get that in writing from you…" She laughed.

Colleen suddenly coughed, rather loudly, interrupting the light conversation between the two.

Slowly, the smile faded from Michaela's lips as she realized how close she had been. How close she had gotten to feeling a twinge of freedom from the darkness that weighed upon her so. She had smiled, consistently, for three minutes straight; she had laughed and felt the creeping of bliss emerge into her. Even if it was only a droplet, and only existed within her for a mere instant; it was a moment, and it was more than she had felt in such a very long time.

It was not, in any way, shape, or form, that she was forgetting the death and the sorrow from Sully's death, but more being able to live with it; to find the good in the world which she had been witness to so little of recently.

Standing in an awkward silence momentarily, Michaela snapped out of her reverie. "Colleen…would you please put Katie to bed in my room, I'll be up in just a moment…and you and Brian should be getting to bed as well…it's getting quite late…"

"Aw, Ma, do I have to…?" Brian whined.

"Brian, do as Dr. Mike asked ya…" Colleen spoke sternly.

"Thank you, Colleen, that's enough…now go on up Brian, I'll be up in a few minutes to tuck you in." Michaela patted the child lovingly on the back.

"Do you want me to do the dishes real fast for ya, Dr. Mike…it wouldn't be a trouble…" Colleen offered quickly, hoping to stay around until Daniel left.

It was much too obvious to Michaela that Colleen did not entirely trust, or even like, Daniel; and while she appreciated the young girl's concern, she felt that Colleen too, needed to move past the grief and allow for her eyes to open to the possibilities of the future. "Thank you Colleen, but I'll be fine…just put Katie into her crib and get some sleep." Michaela pulled her daughter close for a second, whispering in Colleen's ear, "…You've been such a blessing to me…"

Colleen pulled back slowly, looking straight into Michaela's eyes, begging her to recognize her concern. Michaela silently nodded, motioning that she understood and that she would be alright. Colleen, still uneasy about leaving, was forced to comply with a nod in return, before heading up the stairs with Katie in her arms.

They stood for a few moments, listening to the pattering of feet and creaking of floor boards on the upper floor, silently staring at nothing and everything.

"Thank—" Michaela began as she rotated to face Daniel, only to see that his attention was not pinpointed to anything in the room remotely. He stood at the window, starring out at the dark abyss. The young doctor studied his face trying to read his expression, but she could not.

It was moments like these, moments of discord, when Michaela was suddenly snapped back into reality. She didn't really know this man, other than what he and Sully had told her, which really didn't amount to much.

_Sully_; she could read his face like novel. She could ascertain his exact emotion, exact thought almost always, simply by gazing into his eyes; as he could do the same in hers. _Sully…_

A tear trickled down her cheek, followed by another one, and another…each paving its own path down her face, before arriving at her nose, mouth, or chin and dropping down onto the oak floor boards. Silently, yet steadily, they came again and again, never ceasing.

She barely noticed when she was engulfed by two arms from behind. For a moment she remained, imagining they were Sully's arms that had enclosed her into his safe embrace…but the discomfort she felt, and awkwardness that passed between the two reminded her that it was only imagining…and Michaela was forced to awaken from her day dream.

Pushing sharply away from Daniel's embrace, Michaela controlled the tears that cascaded from her eyes.

Silence hung like a dense fog in air. She was uncomfortable. He was uncomfortable. And neither knew how to amend the distress which hung in the air between them.

With no other alternative coming to mind, Daniel turned on his heel, and tipping his hat politely to Michaela, left the cabin without another word.

* * *

_Thump, thump. Thump, thump..._his heart beat wildly behind his ribcage. _Thump, thump. Thump, thump._ Faster and faster, his feet carried him past the barn, away from the homestead. He didn't know where he was heading, or what force was driving him to this unknown place; he just kept going. _Thump, thump._

Dodging and leaping past trees, John seemed unaware of the scenery passing him by; the god-lights which danced among the leaves, the robin feeding its young, the coyote pups wrestling in the woodland debris. _Thump, thump_. He kept running, as his soul kept tugging, pulling him like a magnet to some distinct reference point. _Thump, thump_.

A sudden burst of light erupted again, blinding the man, forcing him to his knees. His cry filled the silence of nature, sending flocks of birds leaping into the air. Down he fell onto the soft earth, cradling his head once again in his cupped hands. Blinking past the tears, he tried to look up again, only to feel a new, stronger rush of pain bolt through him. Yet before his eyes shut, he swore he saw a figure walking towards him...one he recognized...if only from a dream.

There was little time to recollect the memory, however, as John collapsed completely on forest floor, exhausted from the agony. There, darkness awaited his dreams.

_Thump, thump; thump, thump..._


	21. Chapter 21: Awoken

**Chapter 21: Awoken**

It was evening when he woke, stiff and cold upon the forest floor. He was disoriented and sore from the migraine; yet surprisingly comfortable on the rough ground. Coughing slightly as he spit out the bit of dirt he had inhaled while asleep, John rose slowly and precariously, still a bit wobbly in the knees from the shock of the experience.

Glancing around at his surroundings, the man realized he was at the edge of the woods. John walked cautiously to the forest's end, where trees met grass, and looked out upon the lonesome prairie before him.

Long fields of wild grass waved back at him as the wind brushed against the grain, making it dance in the moonlight. The landscape was so serene, so peaceful; and yet John couldn't help but feel that something more happened here...that something greater, or more horrible, occurred on these rolling hills.

_The terrified men, the raining of bullets; the crying, the crashing, the burning_…

He held his head as both pain and images entered his mind. Despite the torture he was forced to endure, he longed for it to continue. "Please...no...I have to...I have to remember..."

John looked up again at the landscape. But this time, he saw the 'beauty', not of nature, but of war.

_The hills were stained red with blood. Thousands lay dead. Thousands more, awaited death. _

_The roar of the cannons deafened the cries of misery, while men and boys battled for their lives._

_Then, there was one boy, one death, one painstaking cry for help…_

_Down…_

_Down…_

_Down…_

_Blackness stole the senses…_

…_and from the depths of the dark abyss, came the figure…came the woman…came his love…_

"_Come back to me…you promised…come back…"_

"MICHAELA!" His scream pierced the night's serenity.

The man panted heavily, drowning out his echoed cry. Once again the blinding light had left him only with more confusion; and this time, a faceless name…

* * *

_**August 5, 1863**_

It had been a week since Michaela had seen or heard from Daniel, following their awkwardly handled moment.

Colleen, for one, was thrilled; and she made a fairly large point of displaying her approval of his retraction in the days which ensued. Unbeknownst to Michaela, she had watched the final encounter between the two as she sat, quietly, at the top of the stairs. Peering through the banister, Colleen saw the look of humiliation and confusion painted across Michaela's tired face, and in that moment, she had wanted nothing more than to throw Daniel out the door, and protect her new mother from anymore heart break. Luckily for Daniel, he had thrown himself out, but unfortunately, the weight of his impact had been left on Michaela's shoulders.

Michaela, although substantially better than she had been in the weeks immediately following Sully's death, still acted distant and out of touch with her children. She knew it as well; she felt herself remain in constant modes of reverie and dream, unable at times to recall what was real, and what was, simply, her mind playing tricks on her.

Now her thoughts had turned from only Sully, to both Sully and the confused mess between her and Daniel. It had been a mistake allowing herself to, even for a second, feel close to Daniel; she had led him on, making him believe that she too was ready for…something. She was not. She was grieving, and she wanted to pretend for just a moment that she could feel love's embrace again. What she failed to recall was that she truly wished for _true_-love's embrace; and as most momentary decisions conclude, Michaela realized she had made a horrible mistake. One that she would not be able to forget or overcome in the near future.

The trio sat at the table, quietly eating their breakfast. Michaela had barely spoken that morning, and the children knew that it was sure to be long day ahead.

"Your eggs are gettin' a lot better Dr. Mike…they aren't runny at all this morning!" Colleen said in an over-exuberant tone, as she forced her fork into the crispy, blackened egg.

Michaela just nodded and gave the girl a weak smile before gazing back down at her plate, picking at the untouched omelet with the tip of her fork. "Thank you…"

Silence fell upon the table again, only interrupted by Katie's occasional gurgles emanating from the baby-basket in which she lay. Hearing the sweet cries, Michaela removed herself from the table, leaving her virtually untouched breakfast for all eyes to see.

"…Hey Ma, can I go fishin' with Steven today?" Brian broke the hushed dissonance.

"Brian! No…I need your help with all the barn work…and ya promised you'd finally clean out the chicken coop!" Colleen answered for Michaela, looking sternly at the boy, willing him to shut up.

"But Ma...!"

Colleen tried again to silence her brother, pinching him on the arm. "Brian!"

"Ouch! Ma!"

"Children!" Michaela finally answered exasperatingly. Sighing, as she bent down to pick up Katie, Michaela counted quietly to ten, before continuing. "…Now I need you to follow your sister's instructions, although you may not have realized it, I am aware that your sister asked you two days ago to clean out the chicken coop. Colleen, please be kinder to your brother…he's not going to oblige your requests if you are constantly harassing him…"

"But Dr. Mike, I…"

"Colleen I know you mean well…but truly today, I need your help to ensure things get done while I'm gone…"

A moment of silence followed her remark, as Colleen and Brian glanced worriedly at each other. "Uh…Dr. Mike…where…where are ya goin'?" Michaela was busy putting on Katie's baby bonnet, and at first Colleen thought that she hadn't heard the question. "…Dr. Mike?"

"…I'm going to town today Colleen…it's time I resume my responsibilities to this town and its citizens..." Michaela trailed off.

"…What…"

"A farmer doesn't stop planting his crop simply because some tragedy occurred…he is forced to move on, for the good of his family, and himself…" A single tear trailed down her face, but Michaela was quick to brush it away. "…I need to get back to my practice…I can't have Jake treating my patients forever…we'd have an epidemic on our hands right there…" Michaela joked softly, turning to face Colleen's worried face with a slight smile.

Colleen hesitantly returned the smile, still concerned. "Dr. Mike….are ya sure? I mean, I've been to town, and no one's judgin' ya or nothin'…"

"I'm sure Colleen…this isn't about judging…this is about healing…and I'd really like to get back to my work…" Michaela spoke quietly, yet purposefully; patting Colleen lightly on the back as she strode past her to the opposite side of the room. There, she slowly brought her hand up to graze across the black, leather bag. It had been such a simple, everyday object in the previous years, and yet now, after her world had crashed so violently beneath her, the object that had remained constant soon became her saving grace. Forcing back the tears that swelled in her eyes, Michaela wrapped her hand firmly around the handle, feeling the power of confidence running through her veins once again. She turned towards the children, presenting them with something that had for so long been missing from their lives; a true, honest smile.

Michaela walked towards the door, Katie in one arm, bag in the other, pausing when she reached it, only to say, "I'll be back by dinner…and please, try to get along while I'm gone…"

"Yes, Ma'am" The children said in unison, smiling back at their mother.

* * *

_**July 30**__**th**__**, 1863**_

The cool, twilight air brushed across his tan skin, forcing bumps of chill to emerge upon the exposed flesh. He paid it no mind, however, as his thoughts were far too concentrated on a different matter.

He had seen her eyes, he had seen her figure…Hazel, with golden flecks, sparkling like sunrays seeping through a forest canopy; slender and petite, yet forceful when she walked, powerful and courageous.

Hay crackled beneath a foot, and the man knew he was not alone.

She had searched for hours for him, and was sure that something dramatic must have befallen him. Tears raced down her cheeks as she saw him facing away from her.

Silence ran between them, chilling and disheartening.

Suddenly, he rotated and stepped towards her, heart racing, nerves tingling. He wanted to know…he needed to know. "Is it you? Was it you?"

She shuddered. It was now…it had come. She could not feel. Her spirit was in his hands. It was his actions now that would now break it. "What does your heart tell you?"

He stopped cold. Did he want to know? Did he truly want to plunge that deep? Was he ready to dismiss all he knew for a life of possibly nothing? "Who is she?"

Her heart broke. "I don't know…"

"Don't lie to me!"

"No, I truly don't know, John…"

"NEVER call me that! That name means nothing to me…it never belonged to me…nothing I know does!"

"I'm…I'm so sorry…"

"Like hell you are! You've taken advantage of me…when I had nothing!"

"No…no, no, no….I'm so, so, sorry…"

He clenched his jaw, anger and frustration rippling like wildfire through his veins; he was no one. Without identity, without purpose, without life. Violently, he sought out an escape for his rage by means of a post, smashing his fist into it with all his might. "Awghe…"

He succeeded in only extending the pain from his heart to his hand, as blood oozed from the injured knuckles.

Gasping softly, Carmen quickly retrieved a wet cloth from the barn's crate and a bottle of whiskey. "Here…"

He pulled away, looking menacingly at her.

"Please! Let me help…"

"You've done plenty…" He laughed bitterly.

Sighing softly, Carmen grabbed his arm, quickly dosing it with alcohol, causing him to wince. "…You can't just expect that to heal without infection…"

The, now nameless, man let out an angered breath, yet allowed the woman to continue to disinfect and wrap his hand.

"Despite what you might think of me…I have always cared for you…"

He laughed, choking back the bitterness that threatened to erupt again.

"…That doesn't mean I in any way expect you to forgive me now or ever…what I did was…it was beyond contemplation, beyond selfishness, beyond any understanding that exists in this world…" Carmen spoke from the bottom of her heart, calmly through her silent tears. "…If I could, I'd spend the rest of my life apologizing to you… all the while knowing that it would never make up for what awful things I've done to you…"

Her hazel eyes met with his, and he knew that she spoke the complete truth…every word.

Turning over his hand, Carmen wrapped the injured knuckles with the cloth. "…I only ask that before you leave…you say good-bye to Katherine…" Her eyes met his again. "…She's innocent of everything…everything, except seeing what was already inside you…a father…"

Seeing the look of confusion plastered on his face, she continued. "…I could tell…from the moment you laid eyes on Katherine…somewhere you do have a family waiting…and I hope and pray to God that you do find them…they need you…and I…I apologize to them with all of my heart and soul as well…I…." Carmen broke down, utterly ashamed and humiliated with herself.

Despite the anger and resentment he felt in his gut, the man could not help but pity her now; for her life was possibly not so different from his true wife's. Not so long ago, this woman had kissed her husband good-bye, relying on his promise of returning to fuel her will to live. Her hopes and dreams had soon been lost to a single piece of metal…her fuel gone, her life shattered; left to care for the farm and child…alone. She'd long lost her heart to the grayness of the prairie land, and with it, she lost her spirit and perhaps a bit of her sanity. While this didn't make up for, or excuse her mistakes, it did provide a sense of understanding to the man.

Nodding, he spoke gruffly. "Carmen…I do not think that I could forgive you now…fully that is…"

"I…I don't expect…" she stuttered through her tears.

"Please…let me finish…" He spoke quietly, allowing a moment of silence to prevail before speaking again. "…I will someday…someday soon I think…and I will contact you when that happens…you deserve to know…"

Carmen shook her head. "I deserve to have my life taken from me…"

"No…no one deserves that; I'll be the first to tell you. And besides, your life was taken from you, long ago, when your husband left for war…which is why I understand now…I'd do anything to get my life back…anything…" He turned away from her, towards the open door. But before he walked through it, the man paused, never looking back, only ahead. "No one will know anything that happened…I'll leave you with that promise…"

And then he left with the wind. Carmen stood, dumbstruck, staring at the place where his eyes had once lingered. Never had she been shown such kindness, never had she witnessed that level of understanding despite the situation at hand. He had been an angel…she had met, lived with, and loved an angel…and now she was to continue her life…to create a better life…to live not in bleakness, but in hope.

* * *

_Hey thanks to everyone who has been reviewing, I REALLY appreciate it! Unfortunately, the numbers of those reviewing have remained quite low, so I'm assuming that the number of people reading in general is quite low. Considering the time it takes to upload the chapter, and then have to go through and reformat things on fanfic (dot) net, it would take a lot less time to just email it to people. So therefore I'm considering just emailing the final chapters to people who review…I know it seems harsh but honestly, it's been a huge ordeal to even try and complete this story…I think Renny is the only one who knows the full story, and I would hope she could account for the difficulties I've had to face simply to get onto the computer. I certainly don't want pity points and I'm really not trying to nag or act whiney, I would simply appreciate some reviews so that I know my story is in fact being read. So, not meant as a threat, simply a consequence, unless I get more reviews, I'm just going to be emailing the final chapters to the following people: Renny, Lynn, Ash, Maria, (Kruemi, Lindsey - once I complete the entire story, I'll send you them since you said you were waiting), Reader101, and LS. Thank you all for reading! _


	22. Chapter 22: Memories

**Chapter 22: Memories**

She sat on the wooden planks of the porch, trying with all her might to comprehend what was happening. Tears pelted from her crystal-blue eyes, drifting down the freckled cheeks and onto her red prairie dress, darkening the fabric as it sunk between the fibers. She watched the individual spot spread through the cloth, soon to be followed by many others that appeared as salty droplets rained from above. Unable to understand with her four year old mind what was happening to her dearest friend, Katherine spoke with a quivering voice, "…But….but you're supposed to be my Papa…"

The man's heart sank deeper with each tear that fell. As dearly as he needed to go, he hated himself for leaving so abruptly; or more, leaving Katherine so abruptly. And yet, deep within his heart the nameless man knew that somewhere, someone was waiting for him; needing him. More and more, he realized that he needed that person too, if for nothing more than to simply know that he was still human; that despite the trauma of war and the complete loss of his identity, that within him there could be hope and happiness, and above all, love.

"I'm so sorry Katherine…I thought I was…and I wish I could be…but I ain't…" He paused, trying to think of something to console the child with. "…somewhere out there…I just might be someone's Pa…and that child, it's waitin' for their daddy to get home. I don't know where they are…or who they are…but I need to find out, does that make sense?"

Slowly the girl nodded, looking up from her skirt and into his eyes. Seeing her reddened cheeks and eyes made his heart break even further, and he was forced to break eye contact as his conscience tore at his insides.

Katherine, however, stood up and wrapped her arms around his neck. "…I understand…somewhere there's a little girl, or a little boy just like me…wishing for their Papa to come home…" She sniffled a bit before continuing, "…I can't keep ya here…that wouldn't be fair to them…just promise me somethin'…"

Katherine stepped back and allowed for the man to lift his head and look squarely into the child's eyes, before nodding. "…Yes, anythin'…"

"Promise me that…if ya don't ever find them…ya come back, and visit me…'cause somethin' tells me I ain't got a Papa to wait on no more…"

Tears traded makers, as the man's eyes watered and he embraced the child. "Don't you worry…ya've got a Papa and he's comin' home real soon…ya just gotta have hope…now you make sure your Ma knows that too…she's gonna need your help now more than ever…"

"But ya never answered my question…will ya come back…even for just a little bit…?" The child inquired again, as the soldier stood and swung his sack over his back.

Glancing across the starlit landscape, he sighed, unsure of even which direction he would take, let alone how he would manage to find his way back here someday. "…Yes…I'll come back…and if I don't, I'll find out how to write to ya…don't ya worry 'bout a thing though…your Pa is probably on his way home right now…"

Katherine nodded slowly and gave a weak smile. Her bottom lip trembled as she gave the man a final hug farewell, before stepping back onto the porch. Gradually the man turned to face the path before him. His legs felt like lead as they carried him across the gravel turf, into the darkening abyss that was his journey. The enclosing darkness crept up around him, engulfing and surrounding him like the fear and anticipation that coated his nerves. Before the final rays of light from the porch lantern evaporated into the blackness, he turned back, waving to the child for the final time. Even from afar he could see her shining cheeks as more and more tears cascaded from her eyes; eyes that were so like his…yet held such a different story. Again he turned, unable to resist the pangs of his heart longing to travel across the open road. And so, he began.

* * *

She clutched the leather strap firmly in her fist as the wagon jostled upon the gravel road into town. The sun bled through the trees, casting fragmented beams which danced upon the woodland terrain and path before her. Yet the beauty of the landscape did not affect her; it had not for quite some time. Long had it been since she had heard the songs of the nightingale, singing beside her bedroom window; weeks had passed since the chirping of a cricket being carried by a cool breeze had perked her ears to equate the current temperature. For all she could see, the land was bare and scorched like the valley of her heart.

And yet, as her eyes wandered up from the dusty road, her mind seemed to also move away from the bitter remains of her broken spirit. As she looked across the valley, she saw her world change from the black and white grimness of solitude, to a bright, colorful display of nature and unity.

Michaela brushed away the single tear that crept down her pale cheek. Scared as she was, she knew it was right; she truly felt that, for the first time since Sully's death, what she was doing was right. Grasping at the leather reign as if it were her will to live, Michaela brought the wagon around the woodland corner, before emerging upon the grassy meadow. The town lay before her, familiar and quaint; yet as her eyes adjusted to the growing light emitted from the unfiltered sun, her hands shook, not from the bumpy terrain, but from the nervous tension that built with every turn of the wagon wheel.

"This is right….this is what you must do…" Michaela said under her breath.

A lump grew steadily in her throat as she neared the town, and she could no longer provide any control over the quiver in her hands.

"Just keep going…keep going." Michaela whispered again, glancing down at the tethered basket that Katie lay in, placed on the seat beside her. "It's ok Katie, we're almost there…" She said a bit louder, speaking towards the cooing child, however reassuring herself more than anyone.

The timbre of the horse's hooves changed as they trotted across the wooden bridge and back onto the unpaved road, now entering the town's main domain. Brown, blue, and green met hazel far too many times for Michaela's liking, and she cowered in the wagon's seat, trying her best to look straight ahead and pretend she was ignorant of the echoed whisper of her name.

Quicker than perhaps usual, the young doctor sped past the livery, ignoring the welcoming wave of Robert E. She never even glanced up to see Jake politely nod to her from the barbershop porch, or Loren's smiling face as he paused from his sweeping of the Mercantile steps. She proceeded on, turning at the corner and giving a quick "Whoa" to the horse, before coming to a complete stop in front of the clinic. Michaela briefly glanced up at the sign that symbolized to her more than her place of work and ownership; it was a sign of compassion, welcoming, and a symbol that Colorado Springs was, indeed, her home. The place where she was wanted and needed.

The sign gave Michaela the strength to stand and descend slowly from the wagon before reaching back up for Katie. Despite the clatter of hooves and wheels grinding into the dust, Michaela could hear the approaching footsteps of her friends coming to greet her. She was not ready to be noticed, she was not ready to confronted, or moreover to be comforted. She needed the comfort of solitude, the silence of her haven, the warmth of her practice, just for few moments to regroup. She needed to be alone.

Summarily, Michaela brought Katie into her embrace and, snatching her medical bag from the wagon floor, she strode towards the clinic entrance; never once glancing back to see the worried faces of the townspeople.

* * *

He was lost. Perhaps even more so than before the visions had come to him and bits of his memory emerged from the depths of his mind. He was nameless, homeless, and without a single idea of where to go, where to start. And to top it all off…it was raining.

What had begun as a beautiful, starry night filled with energy, had been interrupted by the clashes of thunder and the fine pattering of rain upon the open prairie. For three hours he carried on, following the muddy trail wherever it led him, which was northwest; at least that's what it had been the last time he had seen the constellations. He found it strange that he could remember so vividly how to tell the time and his location from the stars, how he could identify plants and roots immediately, and how he could easily track any animal with a single paw print; and yet, he failed to recall his own name, his own past, his own family.

Eventually, the man was forced to stop and take cover beneath a small gathering of trees and brush. Harder and harder the clouds spat rain onto the land, closer and closer he clung to the soiled navy jacket he wore. Over the past weeks, Carmen had given him clothing belonging to her husband, hoping, he supposed, for the character to fit as the apparel did; but now, after refusing the supplies she had offered, the unidentified man had only the uniform he was found in to wear day in and day out. As he lay upon pine needles and twigs, he felt the water slowly creeping through the mud and then into the fibers of the jacket, dampening the flesh beneath. Within minutes, thousands of tiny bumps appeared across his arms, and a slight quiver ran through his entire body as a glacial wind stirred the restless tree tops above.

Tighter and tighter he wrapped his arms around himself, bringing his legs up closer to his chest, almost into a fetal position. He was so cold, so scared, and so lost. Faster and faster his teeth chattered, as he cursed at himself for leaving that night, so late, with no plan or map to guide him.

Slowly the sounds of the rain echoing throughout the grassland valley lulled the man to sleep. Frozen in both the mind and the body, he drifted from dream to dream, confused and always ultimately alone…save for that voice, that haunting, longing voice…

"…_You promised…"_

* * *

The click of the bolt locking in the door ricocheted across the silent room like a gunshot. Michaela turned and leaned her back up against the oak portal as tears swelled in her eyes before they broke their controlling barrier and cascaded down her cheeks. She held Katie closer, pulling her into her chest as her legs trembled from underneath her. Gasping in frustration as her strength wore out, Michaela gave in to her quivering limb's request by sulking down onto the wood planks. Resting her daughter in the bulk of her skirt, Michaela sat motionless as a tear fell and soaked into the burgundy fabric.

She had been here before, in this same spot, in this same room, with the door bolted behind her, and with the same tears reddening her shallow flesh...it had been so long ago...so far away...yet the sorrow still remained.

"_I should be overjoyed…I should be running home to his outstretched arms, to tell him of this miracle. But now…now of all times, I can't…It would hurt him too much…it would hurt both of us too much…"_

Now, there were no outstretched arms to be running home to. She sniffled, pushing away the feelings of remorse and bitter tidings that bubbled in the pit of her stomach. Katie cooed softly, and Michaela's focus turned from the walls encompassing her to the child in her lap. She smiled past the pain, witnessing the sparkle of her daughter's eyes dance like a firefly on a crystal lake.

Michaela gently picked the baby girl up and cradled her to her breast, rocking her gently. She stared into Katie's striking blue eyes, aware of the gears in her head turning, as memories flooded to the forefront of her mind.

_Sully cradled Michaela's head delicately in his hands and stared deep into her eyes._ She had stared back into those same radiant seas of blue that vowed his very soul to her.

"_I promise you Michaela…"_ She heard the words echo in her hollowed gut. _"I will get back to you…I will do everything humanly possible to get back to you! I love you…we'll be together again…I promise you…"_

Michaela shook her head, tearing her eyes away from her daughter's. "How…why did you promise such a thing, Sully? Why?"

And as her mind questioned, her heart responded with a single memory that quenched her every emotion and sense of desire.

_Sully had answered by enveloping her lips with his in a gravity defying kiss, which sent both souls soaring in a burst of exultation and love. Slowly pulling away, Sully looked down into his love's eyes, brushing away the tears with the soft pad of his thumb. _

Again his voice echoed in her heart. _"Because I can feel it, Michaela…You've touched my soul, and I've touched yours…we were meant to be together…and nothin' can tear that apart! Not a thousand miles between us, not even the damn union and confederate armies…nothin'…"_

_Michaela had then nodded, never allowing her gaze to drop from his admiral blue orbs, accepting the answer with all of her heart._

Another tear broke through the wall of strength Michaela was trying with all of her might to build up. Yet, rather than allow the droplet to continue its destructive path down her face and onto the dark fabric, Michaela quickly vanquished the tear with a swipe of her hand, regrouping silently within herself.

She dropped her gaze down to the face of her daughter, smiling again. This time, there was no hint of irony, no forced muscles, only love remained in that gaze, and hope in that smile.

"Katie…your father was right…" Michaela whispered, pausing briefly to collect the words she wished to recite. "…I thought he'd lied to me…I thought that…that he'd let me down, or perhaps vice versa…But Katie, I was so wrong…"

Michaela adjusted herself back onto her feet, rising with Katie cradled in her arms, never breaking eye contact with those piercing eyes. "…We are together…we always have been…and…we always will be…" She laughed slightly, raising one finger to caress the babe's soft cheek.

"…And no damn union or confederate army can change that…he will always be in our hearts Katie…and in you…you are the miracle I've been praying for…" Michaela hugged her daughter close one last time, before placing her into the wicker cradle. "…Now, little miracle, I have to get to some work done…"

Katie had fallen asleep the second her head came in contact with the soft blankets and pillows. With one last glance at the sleeping child, Michaela turned and strode to her desk. She touched the backing of the chair with her finger tips. She was going to do this…she was going to keep going…

Firmly, Michaela pushed back the chair and sat down into it, feeling the comfort of her haven flooding back to her. She was home, she had recuperated. And it was just in time, as a knock at the door pronounced that she was about to have some company.

* * *

**That voice…that figure…**

"**Come back to me…"**

**It taunted him, crushed him, tormented him…**

"**Come back to me…"**

**Those words…that face…the confusion overwhelmed him…**

"**You promised…"**

**And then there came the mighty blow….**

The pattering had stopped, and was replaced with an irregular crackle. He shivered violently, as a cool breeze whisked past him. Tighter he clung to the tattered jacket, feeling the water between the fabric and his flesh soak back into the cotton and out onto the muddy ground.

The abrupt clanging of metal startled the man, causing him to jump from his huddled position on the earth and reach instinctively to an empty belt loop. Looking down at where his hand lay, he felt suddenly as if there was something strangely missing. He forcefully pushed such questions from his mind, and confronted the man seated before him.

"Sorry sir…didn't mean to startle ya there…" A young man with fair hair and tan skin extended one hand, while the other worked to clean up the pots he had dropped by a small fire pit.

The startled man continued to sit in the mud, unsure of how to respond to this odd character.

"…Ya looked pretty cold over there…thought I'd start up a fire and get some grub cookin'…not the most graceful fellow though…apologize again for wakin' ya…"

Still hesitant about saying anything to this stranger, the man remained silent and watched as his new acquaintance prepared breakfast.

"So…ya got a name?" The stranger asked.

There was an awkward silence, as the nameless man tried to come up with a quick explanation to his tragic tale; however, he found that it was impossible, and finally answered, "…you can call me…John..."

The stranger smiled and nodded. "…Well…it's a pleasure meetin' ya John…I'd offer my name, but can't quite tell ya what it is…"

'John' looked inquisitively at the man, becoming even more confused by second. "…I don't understand…"

There was a brief moment where John thought perhaps that the man had failed to hear him, however just as he was about to repeat himself, the man turned from the fire and looked straight into John's crystal blue eyes. Sapphires clang in midair; blue meeting pure blue; ocean meeting sea.

"…I can't tell ya, because honestly mister…I don't know my own name…"

* * *

_Firstly, thank you to everyone who reviewed. I appreciate your comments more than you could ever know. I also wish to apologize for venting and overdramatizing my reaction to the low numbers of reviews. I've given a more thorough explination and apology on my thread in the DQ forum located at ( forum.drquinn.us/viewtopic.php?p243571&sid14d171b3e0876240901563d6126d6e59#243571 ), however I felt it was necessary to post one here as well, as not everyone goes to the forum. I hope you all can forgive me for this, and continue to enjoy CWM, which will indeed be posted here at fanfic . net. Thank you everyone, and please review if you'd life :D_


	23. Chapter 23: Resurrection

**Chapter 23: Resurrection **

John stared blankly at the man, trying to gage if he was joking or not. "…I'm sorry…I…"

"Don't understand? Yeah…me neither actually…" The man stood from his place at the fire, and walked slowly to his knapsack, located a few meters away. "…I just…plum forgot…don't recall a thing since…well…you being a soldier, ya know…"

Remaining motionless, John did not respond; still incapable of comprehending what he was hearing.

"Well…I was in the army too…at least…I woke up in an army uniform…stranded in the middle of some woods with a pretty bad blow to the head, but…I'm alive so…" The man spoke freely as he continued to search the small bag.

John continued to sit in the mud, in simple awe of the man before him. He suddenly was aware that in this world of anger and tragedy, he was not alone. "…Ya don't say…"

"Yup….s'all true I'm afraid…just kind of wanderin' now…tryin' to see if I can find anyone who might know who I am…" He finally pulled his hand back from the bag, to reveal two strips of dried meat. "…uh, it ain't much…but ya look like you could use just about anythin' right about now…"

John smiled slightly, and graciously took the piece of beef from the man's extended hand. "…Thank ya…"

The man nodded and sat back down by the fire, nibbling away at the piece of jerky. They sat in silence for a few minutes, listening to the rustle of tree branches and leaves fluttering in the wind.

"…Ya know ya don't have to sit in the mud….I'm not gonna jump ya or nothin'"

John woke from his reverie, instantly aware of the mud beneath him. Quickly he stood, and walked over to the sit by the fire, opposite the stranger.

The man nodded before continuing, "…Don't talk much do ya?"

John smiled and shrugged he was still trying to ensure that this was not a dream and that the man before him was not a hoax.

The stranger chuckled slightly, before taking another bite from his beef. "…Sorry, sometimes I forget that people just like their silence…especially war veterans…Guess I forgot all my memories..I talk to everyone I can…trying to make new memories in lieu of the missin' ones…

"…or hoping that someone else might just know the memories for ya…" John finally spoke.

The man stared at John for a second, a slight smile spreading on his lips. "...Yeah…yeah that exactly…sometimes even tryin to trigger some of the old ones…yeah…"

Silence fell again, and John stared impassively unto the fire, watching the flames flicker through the air like some native dance.

"…Yeah…." The man repeated to himself, before speaking up again. "…hey, how'd ya know that…?"

John looked up from the fire, knowing what was being asked, but unsure still of how he should answer. "…I'm sorry, I don't know what ya're askin'…"

"Well…how…I mean, no one's ever really understood before…and I mean, ya know who you are…how'd you know exactly what was getting' at?"

John lowered his gaze, trying to piece together words that would make sense. "…Well…it's kind of a long story…"

"Oh well I got some time…hey ya want to wash that jacket of yours…there's a little stream just down the hill…it'd help it dry faster too probably…" The man stood quickly, eager to help his new acquaintance, or perhaps, eager to find someone, anyone to talk to or who would listen.

John sighed slightly, the sun had been up for quite some time, and he estimated it was roughly nine o'clock. He wished for nothing more than to continue his journey, but the reality was that he had no clue where this journey was even to or how he would get where ever it was he needed to be. "Sure…thanks um…" He hesitated, while peeling the drenched jacket from his soaked skin.

"Ah, ya can call me Daniel…" The man responded, as he picked up a small heap of clothing.

John immediately halted his actions upon hearing the name. "…Sorry…what…what did you say?"

"Oh…well, see I found this name tag on the road while walkin' one day…" He pulled out a small metal name tag from his pocket, handed it to John. "…anyways…it was a good, strong name…and, I don't know…I guess I got tired of bein' nameless, so I took it as my own…at least until I find out who I really am…"

John looked at the army tag, rubbing away the dirt upon its face, so as to see the full inscription.

_Lieutenant Daniel Simons_

He rolled his thumb over the etched letters, peering closer and closer at them, as if waiting for something to suddenly erupt from the tag.

"…Um…do ya….do ya recognize it or somethin'?" The man asked John, puzzled by his strange behavior.

That name…it triggered something in his mind. Gears turned slowly, methodically, until at last a silent click echoed in his head. "He was…..he was my best friend…"

The man tilted his head, adding John's jacket to his heap of soiled clothing. "…You're joking, right?" When no response came, the man began again, but in a much more serious tone. "…I'm…I'm sorry…that's just such a coincident…didn't really expect that ya know…um…you…you can keep that…I mean…he was your best friend, if that's all ya got to remember him by…I…"

"No…" John cut him off, awakening from his fixed state of mind and realizing what this man must be thinking. "No…he…he's not dead…at least…I don't think he is…he…" John paused again, memories suddenly flooding back…

_The blaring of gun-fire…the roar of the cannons…the cries of dying men…__as if suddenly awakening from a deep sleep, he looked around the battle grounds…_

Voices echoed in his mind…"_We need to get out of here...we...Daniel...run that way...!" he shouted, taking off in the opposite direction."Daniel if you want to live to see tomorrow then run...I'm gonna tell the others..."_

_Turning back briefly, he began to shouted back, but a well aimed cannon suddenly fell from the sky, bulldozing the land and everything in its path as it exploded right in front of Daniel. A great rush of wind and debris ripped him off his feet, sending him barreling towards the ground._

The picture in his mind swirled as fog…the silhouette of a man on his horse appeared and vanished, only for his mind to reawaken and find himself in a hospital tent, where the screams only doubled in volume..

"…_His leg must be amputated."_

He heard a female's stern voice ricochet through the confines of his mind. Pain erupted again through the nerves of his neck and forehead, causing John to sink to his knees. More scenes passed before his eyes, but the pain prevented him from even deciphering what was being said.

"John…good god man, are ya alright?" The man dropped the clothing, and rushed to John's side, bring with him his canteen. "Here…drink some water…what happened?"

John drank from the canteen and paused, closing his eyes for a minute while the pain slowly crept away, along with any new memories. "…Nothing…it's just…I think you and I…we have more in common than you might have guessed…"

The man looked curiously at John for a few more moments, before patting him gently on the back and standing. "You just keep drinking that water…I'm gonna go and get these clothes washed and hung and then I'll be back…and maybe ya can let me in on this story of yours…"

John smiled slightly and nodded. "…Yeah…we can try that…"

"Good…" The man said as he picked up the clothing he'd dropped, and headed down the hill side, leaving John in the silence of his own thoughts.

"Daniel…" He spoke the name over and over again. "Daniel…Daniel...he…I asked…Daniel!"

"_Daniel, I need to ask a favor from ya…Michaela's due date was over two weeks ago now…but…she hadn't sent any word…not even to say whether she's well or not, or if the babies have come…it's just not like her. And I got this bad feeling…"_

"…_Say no more….I'd be happy to check into Colorado for a few days. I've been meanin' to get back there lately, well that is, before the war…and since I've got nowhere else to go…"_

"Colorado…"

* * *

The door jostled again as someone knocked on the opposite side.

"Michaela!" Dorothy's voice bled through the oak portal.

Michaela stood from her seat, putting her hands behind her back to hide their trembling. "Come in…"

The knob jiggled slightly, but would not turn. "…That's very funny Michaela…ya've got the door locked…not let us in, why don't ya?

Her lids fell as she let out the anticipating breath. _You're being ridiculous, Michaela…it's your best friend…why do you fear to greet her so…_

She briskly walked to the door and undid the bolt below the knob. Slowly, she indulged herself in one final breath of good faith, and allowed the sunlight to brush across her face as the door creaked open.

"Michaela! You're back!" Dorothy spoke gleefully as she stepped forward, embracing Michaela fully, before pulling back. "Oh you look wonderful! You should have told me that you were coming back to work today; I certainly would have driven in with you…

Dorothy continued to babble on, completely unaware that the doctor had not heard a word spoken edgewise since the initial embrace. Her eyes and mind were focused instead on the man that stood in silence on the clinic's threshold. His sandy blond hair and lightly tanned face made her choke for air, as memories of the previous weeks flooded to the forefront of her mind. Sapphire orbs met with hazel and gold, and an uneasy tension ran quickly between the two causing the meeting to end swiftly and both gazes to be brought down to the floor boards.

"…Oh, Michaela, I'm just so proud of you! You've overcome the worst I assure you…and in so little time, unlike me who was absent from life in general for months following my son's death...ah, look at me, rambling on…you probably would like to get back to your paperwork…so we'll leave you…but I'll be back at noon to pick you up for lunch…"

"Oh, Dorothy, that's not necessary…" Michaela spoke quietly, suddenly awakening from her state of deep thought.

"No, no, no…it is absolutely necessary, Michaela…the three of us will all eat lunch together at Grace's…and I'm sure she'll be makin' something special for your welcomin' back to and all…" Dorothy insisted. "…and oh, Michaela, you just have to hear some of the tales that Daniel has of his days minin' with Sully up at Pike's Peak…"

Michaela gulped down the emotion building in her throat and chest, letting out a trembling breath in the process. "…That's very kind of you...but…"

"Actually, ya know…I don't mean to be rude at all…but ya'll have to excuse me from lunch…" Daniel's eyes met Michaela's as he spoke, allowing for a brief silent conversation to pass between them, before contact was graciously broken again. "…I'm a….not a lunch type of a person…I mean…I'd really like to get going to uh…the Johnsons…they uh…gave me some work with fixin' their barn…so um…"

"Oh Daniel, ya need to eat something…" Dorothy insisted, before being cut off by Daniel again.

"Dorothy, don't you worry…I'll be by for coffee this afternoon…But I probably better get goin'…so, uh…g'day ladies…" Daniel spoke quickly and somewhat awkwardly, tipping his hat as he stepped back and turned.

As the cowboy walked briskly towards the livery, Dorothy's eyes followed his stride, which even Michaela, although completely preoccupied with the tension that still ran through her veins, took note of. Awaking from the reverie that grasped her mind, Dorothy turned again towards Michaela, a light smile brushing across her reddened face.

Michaela remained silent, although her raised eyebrows revealed many a thought. The smile suddenly washed away from Dorothy's mouth, and was replaced with a much more somber expression, as she spoke to Michaela in a low voice. "While you were gone…I received the divorce papers from Marcus…"

"Oh, Dorothy…I'm so sorry…" Michaela reached to touch her arm.

Dorothy nodded in gratitude. "…Thank you…but honestly, I'm ok…in fact I feel better than I ever could have dreamed I would…like I've at last broken past the bonds that tied me to my horrible past…it's refreshin' if anythin'"

Michaela gave an understanding smile, which like so many smiles before, was quite forced. It was not that she did not feel happy for Dorothy, quite the contrary in fact. However she could not help but feel the twinge of jealousy that developed and swarmed in her gut. She longed for that same freedom, freedom from emotion, from guilt, from pain that Dorothy now experienced; furthermore there was also the fact that by losing her husband, Dorothy gained this said emotion. And although wrong as it was to think in such a way, Michaela could not help but be envious of Dorothy's situation over her own.

Still bearing a weak smile, Michaela nodded slightly and spoke in an unnaturally quick pace. "…Well, if you could excuse me…I have some….I need to get to my paperwork…"

"Michaela…" Dorothy put her hand on the woman's shoulder as she turned away. The journalist could see and feel her tremble, but opted to refrain from mentioning anything.

"…I'm fine Dorothy, _please_…I'll see you at lunch…" Michaela proceeded to walk away to the far side of the clinic and busy herself in one of the medicine cabinets.

It was the "please" that took Dorothy off guard. The need and begging for her absence sent Dorothy out the door without another word, while emotions remained high in now two women.

Michaela allowed her hands, which begged to confine their quivering state, to remain busy by reorganizing the bottles of herbal remedies and medical concoctions in the shelves. She had not meant for any misgivings to erupt between Dorothy and herself, and certainly had nothing to be angry or bitter at the woman for; however, her need to be alone had gotten the better of her tone, and the emotion that she tried so hard to hide, seemed only to grow and expand from her heart, until it bubbled over, like a boiling pot of water left unsupervised upon a steaming stove.

A wave of anger and disappointment in herself rippled through Michaela, causing the flask when she was currently clinging to, to drop from her trembling limb. The crash of the glass splintering into a thousand pieces rid the room of its momentary silence and set off a chain of reactions both from Michaela and Katie. The clinic was filled with the child's wails, while Michaela stood dumbstruck, gazing down at the broken bottle and strewn powder.

She dropped her eyelids and breathed deeply, forcing the frustration, and anger, hurt, pain, suffering, and heartbreak to be released with each long, controlled breath. Slowly, Michaela opened her eyes and strode across the room to Katie's basket. "Shhh, it's ok Katie…you're ok…" The mother cooed softly, as she picked up the crying baby. "Shhh…shhh…mama just made a mess, that's all…that's all…"

The cries lessened with each step that Michaela took, rocking slightly off of her limbs to soothe the child. When finally the babe had succumbed to sleep in her mother's arms, Michaela slowly returned to the cradle and placed her child within it. As she stared at her daughter, the young doctor suddenly became aware of the creaking of a floor board behind her. Turning hesitantly, she released her held breath at the sight of Grace, who had been standing unnoticed in the doorway for quite some time.

"Grace…" Michaela spoke softly as she made her way towards the young woman.

Embracing her as she spoke, Grace said quietly. "Hey…you're here…?" It was not quite a question, and yet not a finite statement, which allowed Michaela to slowly pulled away and nodded in response. The two looked at each other, gaze upon gaze, mind touching mind, silently acknowledging and understanding the other's thoughts and meaning.

"…You're here…" Grace repeated, only this time with a resounding conclusion, as if stating something in brilliance and glory. They both smiled, weakly, yet smiled all the same. "And…I know ya got Dorothy….and to be quite honest, ya got the whole town behind ya…even Hank…Hank! I bet ya anything even that ol' piece of work would listen to ya if ya ever needed a friendly ear…but…I just wanted you ta know…that if you ever needed anythin'….anything! If ya need to go take a ride on your own…if ya need someone to watch over Katie and the kids…or if ya just need a shoulder to cry on…ya know I'm just a few footsteps away…"

Michaela nodded, withholding the new tears that never seemed to cease from reproducing. "…Thank you, Grace."

The young woman smiled and gave a slight squeeze to the doctor's hand. "Any time, Dr. Mike…any time…"

Seeing that Michaela needed to be alone, Grace let herself out the door, only pausing briefly to say, "…And ya know…you're gonna be just fine, Dr. Mike…you're gonna be just fine…"

The door closed again, leaving Michaela in the sustained silence she longed for. Long, easy breaths stole oxygen from the room and into her, calming the shaking nerve that threatened Michaela's entire composition. Again, she closed her eyes and rested for a beat, before turning back to the bottle which lay in pieces on the ground. Retreating to the back room to retrieve a broom and rag, Grace's words ran through her mind over and over again, as a renaissance of hope bloomed within her and tears of a different sort mingled with that of the old.

"You're going to be alright…you're going to be alright…"

* * *

Flames reflected across blue, clear eyes, as John stared silently into the fire. His thoughts and emotions were nondescript as he tried to clear his mind and body of all distractions and force the memories to emerge. He was so close; he could feel the tension building within him…if only he could break that last wall. If only he could voyage beyond the known, and discover the past that so longed to be found.

"Colorado…Michaela…Daniel…" He dropped his lids, breaking his last sense of the world around him to concentrate. "Colorado…Michaela…Daniel…" He spoke the words again, feeling a trance come over him. He was dizzy, but allowed the feeling to propel his mind forward…into the unknown.

"Colorado….Col….Colora…" The tension grew and for a split second, he thought he had blacked out, until…

"…John?"

John awoke from his reverie, opening his eyes and squinted into the sunlight to see the man, who went by Daniel, standing before him.

"…Hey…um…I just had a question…um…well wait…are ya alright?" 'Daniel' asked.

John nodded, but then shook. "No…my name…it…it ain't John…"

"Sorry…did I forget…"

"No…no, _I did_…" Silence fell upon the morning valley, save for the singing crickets and crackle of the fire. "See…my story, it ain't all that different from your own…"

The sun reached the pinnacle of its journey, as the nameless men again reached a moment of silence. Secrets were shared, and thoughts exchanged, but each had one more additional phrase to append.

'John' lowered his gaze again trying to connect words that described his most recent episode and memorial gain. "…I know where I have to go…and I know the name of the woman I seek…I just don't know her face…God…I could pass her on the street…and never know…"

Again silence brushed between speeches, and 'Daniel' spoke again. "…Well, I might just be able to help ya there…"

'John' look up at his new found companion with a questioning look plastered across his face. "…What…how could ya help me with that…?"

"…'Cause I found this…" The man drew from his pocket a small piece of crumpled paper, on one side it was blank, save for smears of mud and God knows what, and a neatly scrawled date:

_May 20__th__, 1862_

-- -- --

_Those eyes. They pierced her heart, her soul, her conscience. Like a flame in her pocket, she could not keep it with her. It was not meant to be a keepsake to remember him by. No, her memory certainly would never fail her that much. She knew, it was not for her to hold on to._

_She had found the portrait, disregarded beneath the bedside table weeks ago; and while its dismissal initially had brought great faith and joy to her, it was only too obvious as time progressed that those blue orbs had yet to glance upon the smiling faces of the individuals._

_Tears glided down her face like raindrops on a window, unbroken and unceasing. Breathing softly, she slipped the parchment into the chest pocket, beside his heart, where she knew he would feel it._

_She had nothing else to give him, as she knew he would never accept anything else from her. Folding neatly the jacket, she touched her mouth softly with her fingers, before brushing them upon the garment one last time. Carmen then turned, never bothering to brush away the tears that fell so quickly and so quietly from her hazel eyes, and handed the jacket to Katherine, who's tears ran as quickly as those of her mother's._

_"Go on, dear one…he's waiting for you on the porch…" Carmen's voice cracked as she bent down to give her daughter a kiss on the forehead._

_The child nodded silently, and walked to the door._

-- -- --

"I found it, in one of your jacket pockets…I wasn't prowlin' or stealin' or nothing….I just didn't want to ruin nothin', in case you left somethin' in your pockets…so, I found this…this picture…"

But the words had long ceased to register in 'John's' head, and little now did he care of how the portrait was found, as his gaze remained steadfast on the eyes of those present before him. Images of the dreams he had had throughout the past month flew past him; the silhouette of a woman, her call, her plead…her begging for his return…for his promise to be kept. And as he gazed upon that photograph, suddenly a light stole his senses, and he was forced once more to his knees, begging for memories, a final glance at his past…and then, it stopped

"John…I mean…sir…are ya alright?"

He shook his head. "Not John…my name is Byron Sully….and I need to find a train…"

'Daniel' stood baffled by the entire circumstance of events, speaking again with a slight quiver in his voice. "…Sorry…a train?"

"Yes…I need a train…I need to go west."

* * *

_Hey eveyone, sorry for the delay...I just got back from Mexico, and Ren it seems has fallen off the face of the planet so I'm not sure what happened to that girl, but we had planned that she would post a few chapters while I was gone. Anyways, something evidently happened, so I've gone through and editted this chapter as best as I can...which compared to Ren's work, is pretty lame...so I appologize if there are many severe errors. Other than that, chapter 24 is written...well, technically it's half written, but it's already at 13 pages, so...I'm thinking about breaking it up a bit. And yeah, ch. 24 should be out in the next day or so. Enjoy and please review!_


	24. Chapter 24: The Impelled

**Chapter 24: The Impelled**

A golden sea stretched out as far as the eye could see; over hill and valley it spread across the vast terrain, ending only with a collision of blue from the cloudless sky above. The land glistened and shimmered, as the droplets of morning dew that blanketed the fields of grain were met with unfiltered beams of sunlight.

Wind brushed against the grass, and the waltz between the unperceivable and the perceived had begun. Gliding with perfect rhythm to the silent voice of nature, the wheat swayed back and forth, billowing and climbing through each dip and rise of the valley. Back and forth, to and fro, left-foot right-foot, left right, left right…

_Left-right. _

His feet, his legs, his back, his head…it was all so tired, all so stiff and sore. Yet, he pushed onward, towards that breaking horizon, where there lay a new road he would follow, and a new track he would meet.

_Left-right…left-right…_

The sun's sharp rays collided with his bare skin. Tan though he was his skin seemed to crawl and sting with each moment that it lay susceptible to the pure beams of light. His lungs were filled again and again with the rich, heavy, humid air that wore him down; causing his fatigue to mount and his sweat to pour. Still he kept going.

_Left-right…left-right…_

Desperate to push the aches from his mind, Sully thought back to the previous hours, and his final farewell to his fellow soldier, his fellow tragic hero…

-- -- --

Sully knelt by the stream, filling his canteen with the sparkling water. His knapsack was packed to the brim with a mixture of jerky from 'Daniel,' and various berries that Sully had found growing near the creek banks. He was ready. Rising from the water source, he made his way up the steep incline to the clearing where he and Daniel had met.

"So, I guess this means you'll be on your way then…" Daniel extended his hand to meet Sully in a final farewell.

Sully nodded and smiled, excited and motivated by his recent recollections. "Yeah…and, thanks…for everything…"

"It was nothin'…" Daniel shrugged, grabbing his own sack and throwing it upon his back before hoisting himself onto the back of his mare.

The sun shone behind him, casting a shadow onto Daniel's face and body, his silhouette shining through. A brief glance was all that was needed, and Sully's mind reeled again, searching for the memory that triggered the sense of déjà vu within him. "You're…you're the soldier…the one on the horse, that helped Daniel and I…the real Daniel…that Daniel…" Sully spoke slowly, pointing to the name tag that the nameless man bore over his heart.

The man smiled slightly, although Sully could not see it through the shadow. "..Yeah, when ya mentioned that part of your story…I wondered if that's how I knew ya…I recognized ya, but just couldn't place where…"

"What were ya doin' there…that battle happened just a few months ago…"

The horseman paused, trying to find the words that would best explain his motives from that time. "I was searchin' for myself…I'd been ridin' up and down this part of the states, tryin' to see if maybe I'd run into my old campaign…find my troop, or someone who'd recognize me…sometimes I'd find myself ridin' into the middle of a battle…" He paused and chuckled softly. "…that time…I was watchin' from the top of the valley, and I saw that you needed some help…I didn't want the same thing that happened to me, to have to happen to you…"

A moment of silence lingered between the two, before Sully responded. "…You ran back in there…to save someone else…why did ya throw your life away like that?"

"…Because I didn't think I had anythin' to live for…at the time, I didn't know I had a family waitin' for me…"

"…At the time?" Sully questioned the wording, finding it particularly vague.

The man laughed lightly again, and gave his horse a slight nudge in the ribs, never responding. Flowing into an easy trot, the horseman drew away from the clearing and Sully, reaching a bend in the road. Here he stopped, and turned his horse back, shouting, "Ya take this road 'til ya come to the fork…then take the westward path…just keep on it until ya find yourself crossin' a set of traintracks…wait for the train there, and hop it until it stops in Denver…the track'll be runnin' north and south when ya find cross em…, but they turn west a little farther south…be sure ya catch the train runnin' south, otherwise, ya'll wake up in Boston or New York…"

Sully chuckled slightly, "Thanks Daniel…again…"

The man nodded, before turning and shouting over his shoulder, "You too…and ya can call me John!" He was gone with the turn of the road.

-- -- --

Those words had echoed through the valley, and then through Sully's mind, over and over. At last, there was a completion for one tragedy, and the finale of another was within sight; or so he hoped.

He could see the tracks less than a half a mile ahead of him, interrupting the graceful flow of the grassland's dance. "Just keep goin'…keep walkin'…"

_Left-right…left-right…_

Suddenly, a low whistle disturbed the wind's steady whisper, and Sully looked to the north in horror. A large figure was gliding quickly across the glades towards him. Smoke spouted from its roof and a great roar shook the once tranquil ground. The train was early.

Panicking, Sully took off in a dead sprint towards the tracks. _Left-right, left-right, left-right_…He ached, he cursed, and his legs trembled violently with each step; yet his determination never failed him, and he pushed onward. _Left-right, left-right, left-right…_

The train sent a mighty blow of its horn as it neared the intersection with the road. _Fifty feet…thirty feet…_it was so close_…twenty feet…ten feet…_and the engine crossed. Sully was still fifty feet in the clearing when his legs gave out. Landing with a sharp thud onto the gravel road, he swore out loud, wincing as he tried to move. He lay there for a second, the ground rumbling beneath him as passenger cars passed by.

The hope he was clinging to was wearing so thin, so fragile. He needed to catch that train, but with every bone and muscle in his body in such pain and fatigue, he doubted whether he'd be able to pull himself into the train at all.

Looking up at the steadily passing cars, everything seemed to suddenly slow, as if time were being manipulated by the hands of the Gods. A child in a passenger window suddenly caught Sully's eye. Her copper locks, and piercing hazel eyes seemed to stare right into Sully's soul. He knew her not, and yet, her gaze was so absolute, that it gave him the strength to rise, to walk, and to run after that train.

_Forty feet, thirty feet_…his legs carried him despite the pain…._twenty feet…ten feet_…he was so close…the final baggage cars were making their way across the road, and Sully knew it was his last chance. Sprinting alongside the racing train, he grabbed a handle bar…and missed…he tried for the next car…again he missed…he had one more chance…

His body was stiffening with each step. Just as he was about to give up, the image of Michaela's face erupted into his mind, then memory of her laugh, her smile, her kiss…he reached out…one last time.

* * *

The chimes struck twelve in the old desk clock that her father had given to her so many years ago. Michaela's hands rose to massage her tired face and eyes, as she sat back in the chair and let out a relaxed breath of relief. She had made it this far and actually accomplished quite a bit in her paperwork.

Although clearly making an effort to keep track of any illnesses or changes in the health status of her patients, Jake had not taken the time to organize any of his information, nor did he bother updating Michaela's records. While somewhat frustrated by the time it had taken her to reorganize and decipher the notes, which bore Loren's scrawl, Michaela appreciated his attempt, and was pleased to find that the process allowed her to better understand and recall each of her patients and their individual cases.

Looking down at the decreasing pile of records, she picked up her ink pen and began the tedious process once again. Not one sentence had she copied before a knock came at the door.

"Come in…"

The door swung open to reveal her red-haired friend, standing politely in the threshold. "Are you with any patients?"

A small lump settled in the pit of her stomach as Michaela stood from her chair, the tension from their earlier conversation still lingering. "No…no I'm just doing some paperwork…" She spoke quickly, motioning to her desk, where the piles of patient charts lay.

"…Oh, well, I wanted to…see if ya would still come to lunch with me…at Grace's…it won't be very long…"

"Um…well I rather wanted to finish…" Michaela began, but seeing the light suddenly fade from Dorothy's eyes at her second rejection, Michaela quickly changed her mind. "…I'm sorry Dorothy…yes, lunch would be nice…"

"Oh, I don't want to force ya, Michaela…" Dorothy said sincerely, as Michaela turned to pick up Katie from her crib.

"No, you're not forcing me at all…I need a break…" Michaela responded, as she balanced Katie on her hip and reached to her desk for her medicine bag.

Seeing the mother struggle slightly, Dorothy rushed across the room. "Here, let me get that…" She picked up the leather bag from the desk. "I can carry it for you to Grace's…"

"Oh, I can manage." Michaela reached for the bag.

"No, it's really alright…" Dorothy insisted.

Silently sighing, Michaela gave in, not wishing to bicker any longer. "Ok then…thank you."

Dorothy nodded and began to walk towards the clinic door before turning to face Michaela again. "I'm sorry…for this morning…"

"Dorothy, you needn't…"

"Yes, I must." The older woman insisted, pausing to recollect her thoughts and words. "…I should have been more compassionate and more aware of what I was saying…I'm so sorry, sometimes I don't hear the words coming from my mouth until it's far too late…"

Michaela nodded and smiled slightly, which only served to confuse her companion.

"What are you smiling at?"

"Nothing…it's…thank you, but you shouldn't have to apologize…we all do it…" Michaela began, her eyes breaking from Dorothy and gazing now at Katie as she fixed the baby's bonnet to fully cover her head. "We all get so wrapped up in our own thoughts, our own world….our own problems; so much so that sometimes we forget that there are others around us, suffering or rejoicing…and our reactions, or lack thereof as it may be…" Michaela looked up again. "…Sometimes we can hurt the ones that matter the most to us…"

Dorothy smiled back at Michaela, understanding fully every word that the woman spoke.

"I'm sorry too…I was cold to you this morning, when you did nothing…I thought I wanted to be alone, I was sure of it, and I did…I needed to regroup. But, I should never have disregarded you as I did. Can you forgive me for that?"

Dorothy's smile widened, and she embraced the young woman and child together. "Of course Michaela…now let's get something to eat, I'm absolutely starving!"

The two women laughed as they exited the clinic and made their way through the bustling street to Grace's Café. As they walked past the meadow, Michaela noticed a group of men and women carrying lumber and supplies to the middle of the field. "Dorothy, what's going on…what are they building?"

"Oh, ya didn't hear…we're havin' a dance tomorrow night, hope to raise money to give to the…to the troops…" Dorothy said, slightly hesitating on the final part of her sentence.

"Really? That's lovely…" Michaela pushed past the awkward moment as quickly as possible. "…but, what is the wood for?"

"Oh right, Loren was kind enough to donate supplies for a dance floor to be built…ya know, you should come…" Dorothy turned to Michaela as they arrived at Grace's.

Michaela suddenly could not conceal her discomfort any longer. "Oh, Dorothy I'm not so sure I'm up for a dance…"

"Michaela, you need to get out of the house…it will do good for you and Colleen and Brian…and even Katie here…" The older woman tickled the baby's side, causing the girl to release a small squeal of joy. "…Please come…Daniel's taking me, and I'd really love to have my best friend there…"

Dorothy held Michaela's free hand and looked squarely at her with eyes that begged for her approval.

Michaela looked away momentarily to see Grace heading towards them wearing a knowing smile that provided some comfort to Michaela."Well hello ladies…you all look wonderful on this fine afternoon…and you my sweet, look adorable as ever…" Grace laughed as she waved at Katie.

"I was just trying to get Michaela, here, to come to the dance we're havin' tomorrow night…don't ya think it would be good for her and the children to come?" Dorothy proclaimed as Michaela handed her daughter to Grace, who was silently begging to hold the little one.

"Well, if Dr. Mike felt up to it…I'd certainly say that we'd enjoy your company…especially with Robert E. gone…" Grace smiled at Michaela before returning her attention to the babe.

"Where is he?" Michaela voice carried a hint of worry, suddenly fearing that she had missed some horrible disaster or the like.

"Oh, he just left town today to head up to Denver for some supplies…he'll be back day after next, but he's gonna miss the dance and a samplin' of my newest pie recipes…"

"Mmm, I could never say 'no' to your pies, Grace…" Michaela smiled sincerely.

"Then it's settled…the dance starts at eight o'clock tomorrow evening, and tickets are a nickel a piece…" Dorothy spoke excitedly as she sat at the nearest available table, motioning Michaela to follow her suit.

Michaela obliged, and sat at the table across from her friend, Grace was forced to hand the baby back to her mother as she had orders that needed to be filled. Excusing herself, Grace left the duo to continue their gossip; or more for Dorothy to continue to gossip as Michaela sat and listened.

The young doctor didn't mind in the least remaining silent and listening to the various updates of the town's news. It was almost tranquilizing to simply allow the soft tones of Dorothy's voice to mix with the active sounds of birds and wagon wheels, washing over her like a cool ocean breeze. So calm, so relaxing, so normal…symbolic of a day that was simply like any other day; nothing special, nothing emotional…as if for a fleeting moment, the troubles of her heart existed no more.

"Michaela…have you heard a word I've just said?" Dorothy placed her hand upon the young woman's, causing Michaela to jump from her reverie.

"Sorry…" Michaela looked down at her half eaten bowl of soup. "…I guess my mind decided it wanted to travel on its own a bit."

Dorothy looked down on her friend apprehensively, "Are you ok? Ya know ya don't have to come to the dance if you really don't want to…"

Michaela shook her head immediately. "No, you're right…it would be good for the children and myself, we certainly could use the chance to get out as a family for a bit…and it will give the children an opportunity to see their friends. Poor Brian hasn't gotten the chance to go fishing really at all this summer; the least I could do is let him see his friends…"

"Well, if you're sure…and I can't wait to show you the dress I sewed for the event. The second Daniel asked me, I went straight to Loren and asked for his best fabric and…"

But Michaela had now completely stopped paying attention to the woman's excited gibbering. Her gaze was now set on the entrance to the Saloon, behind which she could just make out several figures joining in what looked from afar to be a fight...

"Michaela?" Dorothy began, watching the doctor stand slowly, her gaze never falling from those swinging doors.

But Dorothy's voice was lost as a woman's shrill cry filled the air surrounding the Saloon. Michaela quickly grabbed her bag from the table and sought out the arms that she knew would willingly care for her daughter over the next few hours. "Grace…"

"Right here, Dr. Mike…" Grace ran up to the woman.

"Can you please…" Michaela didn't even finish her sentence, as Grace was taking Katie right from her embrace. "…Thank you…"

Hands and obligations free, Michaela ran across the street towards the saloon entrance. Just as she arrived, the doors swung open and Hank came running out, Myra in his arms, blood trailing from her limbs and face.

"What happened?" Michaela quickly inquired.

"She got in the middle of what was suppose ta be just a fist fight…then some bozo decided ta throw a knife inta the mix, and Myra ended up at the wrong end of it…"

"Someone was in a fist fight with Myra?" Michaela tried to comprehend what Hank was telling her.

Hank sighed. "No, Michaela; she was tryin' ta break up the fight and just got in the way a bit…"

Michaela looked up coldly at Hank as she examined the wound on Myra's arm. "A bit is somewhat of an understatement, she's going to need stitches, don't worry you'll be fine, Myra …just bring her into my clinic."

Michaela ran to the door and unlocked it, leaving the portal open for Hank to step in with Myra. "Just lay her there on the bed and then wait outside…"

Hank did as he was instructed and then made for the exit. As Michaela began to wash and disinfect her hands, Hank stopped and turned from his retreat. "And Michaela…"

Michaela paused and looked up from the sink.

Hank stood at the doorway, shrugging slightly and nodding. "…It's good ta have ya back…"

The door closed behind him, and Michaela was left to complete her job, with a slight smile still lingering on her face.

-- --

After nearly two hours of tedious work, Michaela had at last finished stitching Myra's wounds. The blade's work had been quite extensive, leaving injuries ranging from minor nicks to the young woman's ear and cheek, to several deep gashes on her arm and shoulders.

"You really must be more careful, Myra …you're a strong woman, but it's dangerous to try and break up a drunken brawl on your own." Michaela laughed slightly as she applied herb leaves to the wounds.

Myra joined in her laugh. "Yeah…I never wanted to…to be quite honest I was just tryin' to get out of there…but…"

Michaela's mouth curled into a slight smile, resting her hand consolingly on the woman's back. "…But you got stuck. Oh Myra, I know Horace is doing everything he can to get you out of there, but I wish there was something I could do…"

"Ya've done enough already Dr. Mike." Myra assured the young doctor. "Ya always are there to help me whenever I'm feelin' lousy, and ya stand up for me even when it…well, goes 'gainst the rest of the town's views…"

Michaela shook her head, still upset with herself. "But I haven't been here like I should have been…not through the past year…Not for you, not for my own family…not for even Sully's old family…"

"Ya mean the Cheyenne ?"

Nodding again, Michaela allowed the thoughts and emotions that had billowed within her over the past day and even weeks prior. "It's horrible to say, but I'm almost glad that the Cheyenne moved north to new reservation lands last summer…it gave me an excuse not to see them."

Myra readjusted herself on the clinic bed, trying to understand Michaela's emotional ramblings. "…Are ya sayin' ya don't like the Cheyenne no more?"

"No, no…" Michaela sighed, realizing how her discombobulated thoughts could be so misunderstood. "It's just…the very thought of Snowbird, or Cloud Dancing…it just makes me remember…" She coughed, trying to clear her throat. "…reminds me so much of…"

Seeing her struggle to say the man's name, Myra embraced Michaela, wincing past the pain that harnessed her limbs, whispering softly in the doctor's ear, "…of Sully."

Michaela nodded silently, two tears trickling down her cheeks. Quickly pulling away, she brushed off the tears, like so many before. "I'm so sorry…that was so unprofessional of me…I…" the rest of her words were muffled by the hand that Michaela hid her mouth behind.

"No, no…" Myra stood up, staring eye to eye with the doctor. "Everyone needs to cry sometimes, everyone needs to talk; sometimes we don't get to choose when that time is. I know you always would listen to me whenever I had a problem; it was least I could do, 'specially after all you've been through in the past year."

Michaela let out a shaky breath, regrouping her emotions slowly. "Thank you Myra…now," her voice suddenly turned from emotionally high-pitched, to her serious medical tone, which she frequently hid behind when her emotions wished to interrupt her strong image. "…I need you to apply these leaves twice a day to each lesion, and allow them to lie upon them for twenty minutes at least…they'll help both with preventing scaring as well as infection."

"Thank ya Dr. Mike." Myra saw that the doctor no longer wished for her weaker side to be exposed, and continued to the door, swearing silently to never speak a word of it.

"The swelling should go down in the next day or so, if it continues or gets any worse, please come to me immediately."

"I will."

Michaela followed her patient out the door and onto the porch, where a rather large group of people stood waiting.

"Myra! Are ya ok…I was so worried when Dorothy told me…" Horace stuttered as he embraced his love affectionately.

"Horace, how…how'd you get a black eye?!" Michaela exclaimed suddenly, noting the man's new injury.

Horace slowly let go of Myra and turned to face the doctor. "Well, that was courteously of Hank…"

Before Michaela could even turn to address him, Hank responded from his seated position on the clinic steps. "Well, what would ya expect me to do Horace…when ya lunged at me!"

"Yeah, well that's only because I was standin' up for…" But Horace's rebuttal was cut off as Hank stood warningly, clearly ready to display the same term of endearment upon Horace's other eye.

"Gentlemen!" Michaela's voice broke the mounting tension. "Hasn't there already been enough fighting these days as it were?!" A dead silence followed her chastisement. She dug into her pocket, bringing out a few left over leafs and handing them to the two men. "Now when you're ready to start acting your age, apply these leafs to your injuries."

"What are…" Horace began.

"They're leaves, from the Aloe plant…they'll help heal the skin faster…" Michaela spoke quick and sternly, before turning to speak directly to Hank. "Myra needs to rest. A week should suffice…"

"A week?! I'm not letting her off for a week…"

"You're letting her off as long as I say she needs off, Hank!" Michaela said shortly. "…if she pushes herself too hard, those stitches could easy break and she could start bleeding. Or worse the wounds could become infected…"

Blue clashed stubbornly with hazel as they each tried to stare the other down. A flicker, then one grim mouth slowly slid into a smile, and Hank accepted defeat without another word, swaggering off across the street to the saloon and dragging Myra along with him.

The group that had assembled for the fight slowly deteriorated, leaving Michaela alone with Grace, who still held Katie, and Dorothy.

"Thank you Grace." Michaela let out a cool breath as she took Katie back into her arms.

"Well, that was excitin'…I'd better head back to the Café though, supper time's a comin' and I gotta be ready for the rush." Grace gave Michaela's arm a comforting squeeze before rushing down the street and around the bend; leaving Michaela alone once more with Dorothy.

"Well, that was enough excitement for your first day back, I'd say." Dorothy chuckled softly as a smile spread upon Michaela's face.

"Yes, I suppose it was…as a matter of fact, I believe that I should be getting Katie home," Michaela said as she walked to the clinic door, which she had been left ajar amidst the previous commotion. "Colleen and Brian will be expecting me, and I'm not going to lie, I'm a little terrified that they may have strangled one another with their shoelaces by now…"

The two women laughed lightly before bidding each other their final farewells. Grabbing her medical bag, Michaela balanced Katie and the leather case in one hand as she shut the oak entrance, and locked the bolt. Walking silently to the wagon, Michaela lifted her daughter up and placed her in the whicker crib atop the wagon bench. She then hoisted herself up and into the 

driver's seat, and sighing softly, Michaela relished in a rush of exhilaration at the prospect of leaving at last. With a final click of her tongue and nudge of the reigns, they set off to the warmth and safe surroundings of her home.

The evening air was cool and brisk against her porcelain flesh, causing a ripple of tiny bumps to slowly creep along her thin arms. Michaela released the reigns with one hand, and pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders and neckline. Returning her hand to the reigns, she freed her gaze from the dimly lit road and looked up into the multihued-sky. The eastern plains rich indigo lurked behind the fuchsia strip that soared above her, with it bringing the inconsistent speckled remains of constellations peering through the fading sunlight. The western mountains were still visible in the oncoming darkness, and the bright golden beams of the sun setting behind them left their silhouetted forms to be contrasted from their shadowed surroundings.

It was beautiful. There was no denying it. Nature, the world, life…it could be beautiful; even after heartbreak, even after death.

Her eyes dropped back to peer at the winding road before her. It was dark and unforeseeable; and yet she knew at the end of it there waited those who loved her, and needed her presence. Although she had told herself such things millions of times, it was not until that moment, when the beauty of nature had fully captivated her senses, did she see and understand the truth behind the words. She was strong, despite the tears that would still beg to be released some nights; she was courageous, though fear would take refuge in her heart at times; and she was alive, even when all hope and desire to live was lost, she would and could push on. And now, she knew it to be true.

* * *

He was supported by nothing, clinging to life with one hand; one sweating, tired, hand. It slipped. He gazed at it, seeing his fingers slowly sliding around the bar, away from the car and away from his one ride home. Azure orbs narrowed in on their target, and with one last surge of energy, he threw his flaying arm at the bar, renewing his grip with both hands. Slowly, Sully pulled himself up so that he could touch his feet on the step below the siding door.

There he hung, balanced on a small steel platform, while his hands still clung to the door handle. Carefully and cautiously, Sully managed to push on barge door, sliding it slowly to the left, until he had created an opening large enough for him to squeeze into. Throwing his knapsack off his back and into the cart, he built up the momentum in his legs to leap from the platform and into the baggage car. And with a light thud, he landed in the car, exhausted.

Breathing in the damp, dusty air, Sully brought one hand up to his chest pocket to remove the single piece of paper that it encompassed. He peered at the smiling faces through the dimming light, and he himself smiled back. "I'm comin' Michaela…I promised…and I'm comin'…"

Still breathing heavily, he returned the picture to its compartment next to his heart, and allowed for the gentle rocking of the train against the rails to relax and ease his mind and muscles. Looking out unto the passing prairie, his thoughts of joy and exultation seemed to slip slightly 

from his thoughts, and were replaced with the disappointment that still harnessed his conscience. "…I only wish I could remember makin' the promise…I wish I could remember takin' this picture…" His hand rested on his heart as he spoke aloud to no one, and yet to one specific person that remained so far away.

His gaze lifted to the reddening sky, and he peered at it, as if trying to see the stars before they revealed themselves with the moon and constellations. "…Heartsong…you were my heartsong…heartsong…"

Urgently and gracefully, the train continued its westward journey, gliding across the golden plains of wheat and grain; bringing a soldier ever closer to his home.

Please R & R! Thanks! More to come soon!


	25. Chapter 25: Breaching

**Chapter 25: Breaching**

Memories; they lay before her like a knife to her throat, concealed temporarily behind maple planks and brass edging. She knelt silently on the floor, glaring at the metal fastening as she bit her bottom lip, her nerve slowly beginning to fade with each passing second. "This is ridiculous…it's just a trunk…" Michaela's mind chastised. "It's just a trunk…filled with things…that's all they are…non-descript things…"

Her eyelids shut tightly as she bit her lip even harder, the indent deepening with the fear that seemed to penetrate every fiber of her being. The pain in her pinched flesh enabled her to focus on her exterior self, rather than her trembling hands; which slowly extended to the fastened clasp of the hope chest. Michaela's fingertips brushed across the cool metal, causing her to flinch momentarily before proceeding onward. Carefully and cautiously, her hands worked to unlock the brass lock, seeing only with touch and never with sight. There was a soft 'click', as the latch fell away from its bound position, and a rich silence hung in the dense air; coating her lungs and entire body with each anticipation congested breath.

Hazel broke through as the lidded veil parted, revealing Michaela's hands hovering over the chest as though her limbs shared a magnetic charge with the surface; one side drawn to its presence, yet the other unable to meet with its shell.

"They're just things…just don't think about them….don't even look at them…get the dress and go." She spoke aloud, silently praying for the strength to continue.

Taking in a deep breath, Michaela empowered her arms with all the force she could muster and lifted the wooden cover upwards. The hinges voiced Michaela's silent whimper of protest, as her eyes, defying their master's caution, scanned the various parcels contained in the coffer.

A tiny, "Oh…", was all that Michaela could muster.

Tears neither swelled nor rained , as the shock of seeing the scattered remains of her life with Sully shook such capabilities from her. Blinking past her wide-eyed stare, Michaela's delicate fingers traced the ornate pattern of roses that where croqueted into the lace of her wedding gown. The rutted texture soon turned smooth, as she grazed over the silk bodice, thoughtlessly following the hem line down the pure white fabric.

A static charge bolted through her fingers as the fabric fell deeper into the chest, and her eyes were forced to travel on to the next object. After pulling back momentarily to subdue a sob in her throat, Michaela reached back into the trunk to pull out a solitary photograph.

His eyes; despite the lack of color, despite the dimension that separated them, despite the soul that had been lost; oceans still collided with sunlit tree canopies, driving hearts to mingle silently, secretly. The world was washed away, leaving only those eyes, only that soul. _No…only her soul__. _She held the gaze, even as her head swayed side to side. "No..." she repeated, for she realized that it was both, hers and his, which survived. Both lived, both breathed, in her, with her; in her memories, in this picture, this photograph she knew he had carried as well. It was the last photograph she had taken with him, the last one they had taken that day, that gloriously blissful day when lovers vowed their everlasting unity to God, family, friends, and mostly to themselves.

She couldn't breathe; and yet, could she, was she? She did not know, all feeling was lost in those eyes; black on paper yet bounding in cerulean waves towards her, warming her flesh, her mouth, her lungs, heart, and gut. Michaela gasped, heaving in and out the cool summer air. She gripped her chest and lower rib cage, the portrait floating effortlessly to the floor. Breaths came in short, hard motions that jarred every nerve in her body, as she sunk slowly to lie beside the paper.

With time her breathing slowed and calmed. She shivered once, then again as she lay in silence, tears never breaking her discomfort, leaving her bottled and caged. Like a limp puppet, Michaela raised her arm, throwing it into the chest before reeling it back to the warmth of her body, clutching a blur of white. There she lay strewn on the cold heartless ground, wrapped in her wedding gown to keep warm. She didn't even bother imagining what she must look like. "Pathetic" She whispered, and her stomach lurched slightly. After all that she had accomplished, after all she had pushed past, especially in these final few days, she had been defeated by little more than a piece of parchment and ink.

A breeze flew past her open window and glided across the floor, brushing over the woman and the items lying around her. The skirt of the gown fluttered slightly, grabbing Michaela's attention. The golden flecks in her eyes shimmered as she narrowed her vision slightly, seeing something that failed to match the surrounding homogeneous material. Removing her arm from the silken confines, Michaela extended the limb to reach for the mismatched fabric that lay at her heels. She snatched it, recoiling into a loose fetal position.

As had been done with the dress, her fingers gently and gracefully brushed against the cotton square, memories flooding her mind.

_Copper locks, once confined __in__ a neat bun that lay at the base of her neck, now billowed in shiny waves behind her as Michaela tore across the open field towards the sanctity of a wooded alcove. She heard her name beckoned far behind her, yet she chose to feign __deaf__. A single tear dropped__,__ and Michaela quickly brushed it away, pushing herself to run faster, away from the town, from the people, their eyes, and their criticism. At last she reached the tree line. Grief and _

_relief swept over her at once, costing her some self dignity as she failed to see a protruding root. Suddenly, Michaela realized she was falling through the wooden threshold, down onto the forest floor. She coughed, spitting out a dried pine needle as she slowly pushed her now aching body up from the ground. Hearing heavy footsteps approaching, Michaela quickly brushed away the dirt and forest medley that lingered on her skirt. _

_S__he never turned to face or recognize her company even as the follower's eyes bore on her back, beckoning her attention, her acknowledgment, her mere response__. S__ilence was all that he would receive for minutes to come__; b__ut he could wait._

_She felt his eyes on her. That waterfall glare that could penetrate any wall she built around herself. __However, Michaela's stubbornness refused to so easily concede defeat__, and she forced herself to remain nonchalant among the pine trees, as emotions soared within her. Finally, his gaze penetrated, and Michaela's voice cracked the hush of nature. "I can't do this, Sully…I can't do this surgery…I…"_

_She turned to face him. His gaze never __dropped, never subdued__. "Why can't ya?"_

_Her hazel gaze narrowed, and she laughed ever so lightly, until laugh and cry became __undistinguishable__. "I…I just can't…I can't… I don't know what to do…I've never performed a surgery such as this…not alone, and certainly not in these conditions…"_

"_This isn't the first time you've had to deal with…" Sully began._

"_But this is different, Sully…those other surgeries…they weren't nearly as complex and life imposing…One hesitation, a slight nick of a nerve….he would die, or become paralyzed…" Michaela explained, a fresh set of tears building silently in her eyes. "…And they're all watching…they're all waiting…"_

"_For you to come and do what you are best at…" Sully stepped towards the disheartened woman, gently placing his hands on her upper arms._

_She looked up at into his ice blue gaze, and saw nothing but love and kindness. "…No, they're waiting for me to mess up…they don't want me to succeed…they'd rather I fail so they can justly run me out of town and back to Boston…"_

"_Where are ya getting such thoughts?"_

_Michaela laughed, almost. "Well, Jake and Hank, for one, certainly haven't made a remarkable attempt to hide that they wish for my absence..."_

_Sully followed Michaela's weak laugh, digging his hand into his pant pocket and removing a thin white handkerchief. "Come here…" He softly beckoned her closer, using the handkerchief to brush away a tear that trembled on her cheek. Following the same motion on __her__ chin and nose, he brought his free hand up to her jaw line, bringing her dropped gaze to meet his. "…You're Dr. Michaela Quinn…since when have __you__ cared what anyone thought…let alone Jake and Hank…"_

_Michaela rolled her eyes slightly, yet she was clearly still not convinced._

"_Michaela you can do this…you're stronger than ya think…look how far you've come…" Sully cupped her face lightly; he could have kissed her right there and then had thoughts of propriety, which had never bothered his mind previously, suddenly controlled his actions. Instead he dropped his hands to reach for hers, placing the hankie in her palm. "It was my mother's…she gave it to me the day…" He cut off, looking back into Michaela's gaze. "I don't need it __anymore."_

"_Sull__y y__ou can't…no, I can't take thi__s."__ Michaela extended her hand back to his, only to have it enclosed again._

"_No, I want ya to have it…__m__y mother…she was a strong woman, but…she just wasn't strong enoug__h."__ Sully paused to prevent his throat from caving in on his dialogue. __"S__he wasn't as strong as you are Dr. Mike…I've seen ya push past the expectations and grit of this town__,__ I've seen ya stand before an entire __a__rmy troop for what ya believe in…So don't go saying ya can't…not when you've done it every day for the past six months you've been her__e."_

The memory faded and she was brought back into the room, still clutching the handkerchief to her heart. His smell still lingered after all these years in the fabric, prompting Michaela to bring it close to her face, inhaling his essence fully. "You're strong." Michaela smiled lightly into the tissue. "Don't go saying ya can't when you've been doing it every day…"

Her collapse was a reminder of the fear and pain that would remain with her, she knew, for long to come, but the words that Sully had spoken to her on that distant day renewed in her the hope that proved her worth. Slowly, Michaela pushed back the silk and lace, and stood, picking up the dress along with herself, and folding the graceful fabric back into trunk. Before reaching for the picture, she pulled out a periwinkle blue garment that lay beside the white.

Gazing down upon it, she realized that she had not worn the dance dress since the Sweetheart's dance nearly a year and a half ago. There she had danced, for the first time, with Sully; and in that night, her heart was fully captured by his gaze and soul.

"This was your favorite Sully, you even said so once." Michaela smiled, recalling the occasion before becoming serious again. "I'll wear it for you and only you Sully…because you are the reason I am still strong. You are my rock…you will always be with me, I know that now."

* * *

Sunrays crept silently over the Colorado territory; brushing the basin of sweet grass and wheat before slowly permeating the foothills, and finally the rocky peaks. A solitary eagle hung motionless in mid-air, soaring gently above the vast sunlit meadow. His eye was keen and fixed on the patch-less ground below; scouring the land beneath the fine blades of grass for a succulent morsel. Movement; black narrowed to gold, then relaxed. A mere cool breeze had flickered the tall stocks. He focused his gilded eyes again on the full prairie land. There was nothing. No matter, he could wait as long as he needed; he would not tire as he glided effortlessly on rising air currents.

Up, up, up he soared, stroking the Maya blue sky with his tanned wings and dark golden head. Yet his flight of ecstasy was short-lived, as a shadowed figure moved quickly on the horizon. Again the eagle narrowed its eyes, glaring at the peculiar animal charging through his stretch of land. Clouds of ash sprayed from the roof of the creature's forehead, as water might from a whale, while a low moan was emitted from its frontal quarters; interrupting the silence of the meadow, growing louder and louder as the mysterious beast approached. Soon the earth itself shook with the same fervor that the animal ran with, causing the majestic bird to cower and flee towards its yonder tree dwelling.

Sully sat in the train car, his gaze following the retreating eagle. It had been nearly five days since he had first pulled himself into the baggage car; five horribly long, exhausting days. Five days of empty grasslands, five days of nauseating rocking, five days of constantly interrupted sleep; five days of enough torture to allow Sully discover that he despised trains. If it weren't for the fact that time was of the essence, Sully would have gladly considered walking the remainder of the trip; however, time was indeed running out – a concept he could not vocalize or begin to reason for, and yet it explained the feeling of anticipation that drew him to agitation with every break of the journey or stop of the train – he only knew he needed to reach Michaela as soon as possible.

He shifted his gaze westward. After days of blinding gold, Sully's eyes finally were given the opportunity to rest on the indigo formations. They beckoned him, calling him home, causing his insides to leap with joy and exhilaration. "I'm almost there…almost there…" He whispered, tugging at the flap overlapping his breast pocket to remove the picture which he clung to for support. "I'm almost there, Michaela, I'm almost to you."

* * *

The cool night air fell lightly on her exposed flesh, splattering scattered bumps as the skin reacted to the chill.

"Ma, you ok?" Colleen's voice pierced Michaela's trance.

She looked down at the young woman, who stood beside the wagon with Katie in her arms, waiting for her mother to follow her suit. "Yes, sorry…I'm fine."

Michaela released the reigns from her tight grasp and hoisted herself down from the wagon seat. Smiling slightly, she held out her arm to Colleen, who linked it through her free appendage as they strode towards the sounds of reels and square dances.

"Ma, can I get some cider?" Brian inquired excitedly upon arriving at the stage entrance.

"May I…"

"May I get some cider…" Brian reiterated. "…please…"

Michaela gave a true smile to the lad and nodded. "Yes, just let me buy our tickets first."

From her pouch she withdrew four small coins, three of which she handed over to the usher, and one to Brian, who immediately took off for the punch table.

"What's that?" Colleen pointed to the white embroidered fabric that protruded from the black purse.

Michaela blushed. "Oh, it's…it's just a handkerchief."

Colleen nodded, noting her mother's tense form, but decided not to comment. "Oh, it's pretty."

Michaela gave a weak smile in response as they walked along the rim of the stage, trying to stay out of the dancing couple's paths. Michaela, merely for her own comfort, had decided to bring the handkerchief with her that night. Its scent and significance made her feel enclosed in a safe embrace, one that only Sully could have surrounded her with. Clutching it tightly in her fist, Michaela steered herself and Colleen to the table where Grace stood, displaying her new pies.

"Dr. Mike! Ya came! Oh, I'm so glad ya made it!" Grace beamed.

"Yes, we talked it over, and the children thought it was great idea."

"So long as Dr. Mike doesn't push herself too hard…" Colleen reminded her mother of their agreement.

"Well, I'll be sure to keep an eye on your Ma too." Grace chuckled lightly. "Now let me see this little angel you've got in your hands…"

Colleen and Michaela joined in Grace's laugh, and handed Katie over to the woman.

"Hey! Colleen!" A voice beckoned over the upbeat music. Colleen scanned the array of people, searching for the voice. Finally she saw her friend Becky waving to her from across the dance floor. Smiling, Colleen nearly forgot herself and began to ask for her dismissal; however, she was immediately reminded of her self-imposed promise to look after Michaela that night.

Michaela saw the child's distress, and it made her heart swell to see her adopted daughter care so deeply for her. "Colleen…"

"Yes Ma?" Colleen quickly looked away from her friends, hoping that Michaela would not notice the twinge of disappointment in her eyes.

Michaela smiled, seeing Colleen try so hard to dismiss her own desires. "Why don't you go off with your friends for a while, you haven't seen them in forever…"

"Oh no, Dr. Mike, I'm fine…really, I'd rather stay here with you and Ms. Grace." Colleen spoke quickly.

"Colleen… go with your friends. I'll be fine; I can take care of myself." Michaela embraced the child, forcing her to silence any further argument. Removing herself from her mother's embrace, Colleen gave one last look of uncertainty, before turning and striding towards the group of her teenage peers.

"She's a lovely girl, Dr. Mike." Grace smiled at the young woman.

"I know." Michaela sighed. "I'm so lucky to have her. Charlotte did such an impeccable job raising her."

"You have too, ya know."

Michaela turned towards her friend, shaking her head. "No…I haven't been much of a mother to any of my children I'm afraid, not for the past few months…Colleen's the one that kept things going."

Grace placed her hand gently on the woman's shoulder. "Ya did you're best…not much else we could ask from ya."

Michaela surprised her friend by nodding. "I know that now…although I'll never forgive myself for it, I think I've finally seen that dwelling on the past doesn't make up for the future, and truly will only cripple me and my family."

A moment of silence hung softly between the two women before Grace spoke again, her smile having grown even larger. "There ya go…we finally got it."

"Got what?"

"Got our doctor back….our friend back. We got you, talkin' like yourself again, so wise and…and poised." Grace clung to her friend's hand. "Welcome back."

Michaela beamed, truly and completely.

"Michaela! Michaela is that you…" Dorothy's voice suddenly broke the pair's silence.

"Dorothy…" Michaela embraced her friend. "You look beautiful."

"Oh you're one to talk…look at you, you look absolutely radiant!" All three women smiled widely, for the first time in so long.

"Where's Daniel?" Michaela inquired.

"Oh, he's off getting us some punch; he'll be back any moment…" Dorothy smiled shyly. "In fact, here he comes now…Daniel, over here dear!"

But Daniel did not need beckoning. Although his eyes failed to see the form of his dancing partner, he was being pulled towards the same area by the mere image of another woman. A woman who he recognized so clearly, and yet, whose appearance and simple presence had changed so drastically from the lady he knew her to be.

"Thank you Daniel." Dorothy took a glass from Daniel, who stood in awe, staring blindly at Michaela. "Oh Daniel, doesn't Michaela look just ravishing! Oh and Grace, I've been meanin' to tell ya, please give my thanks to Robert E again for makin' that prosthetic leg for Daniel. Otherwise, he would never have been able to come tonight…"

Dorothy's voice had all but fallen completely from either person's attention. Michaela's skin trickled uncomfortably as she stood beneath Daniel's blue-eyed gaze. Gripping the hidden hankie even tighter, she glanced around looking for an exit.

"Michaela, are you feelin' alright?" Dorothy asked, seeing the woman's flushed face and nervous stature.

"Yes, I'm…I'm fine…I was just looking for...um…the punch stand…" Michaela stuttered slightly.

"Oh here, have some of mine." Dorothy suggested.

"No, no….I uh…"

"No, seriously drink…I won't be able to drink it all."

However, Michaela shook her head again. "No, actually I don't think I feel much like punch after all…umm…"

But her sentence was cut off when Jake's voice could be heard from the musician's corner. "And now ladies and gentlemen, could we have everyone choose a partner that they did not invite tonight, for the midnight waltz."

Michaela, if possible, looked even further away from Daniel's onset gaze.

"Well, I think I'm gonna go and get Lauren, he seems to be lonely over sittin' by himself over there…" Dorothy spoke lightly, seeing the shop owner sitting by the punch table alone. "…Michaela, would you mind dancin' with Daniel for a bit?"

A thousand reasons to deny her request erupted in Michaela's mind, however looking at her friend's sincere glance, she was forced to concede and nod her head.

"Thank you dear. Now I'll be right back…"

A bitter, horrendous silence fell between the remaining trio.

"Um, I can hold on to Katie for ya Dr. Mike, you go and…um…dance." Grace said cautiously, before turning her attention to one of her customers.

The music began to play, leading the couples in an elegant sway across the dance floor. "Shall we?" Daniel spoke for the first time that night.

Michaela closed her eyes, exhaling her tenuous breath, and allowed herself to reach for the man's outstretched hand. Nausea filled her stomach as she twirled herself towards him, her opposite hand resting on his arm. Her skin burned beneath the fabric where his hand delicately touched her waist. She couldn't breathe, she needed air…and it was certainly not for the same reason that her breath was instantly lost when dancing in the arms of her husband. "I…"

"I'm sorry for what happened, that night…it was…wrong of me…I…" Daniel spoke quietly, unaware that Michaela was trying to speak.

"I can't breathe…" Michaela spoke in less than a whisper.

"I…I was so foolish…I hope I haven't ruined our friendship Michaela…"

She looked up at him, in somewhat disbelief that he had yet to notice her clear discomfort.

"You do look beautiful tonight…" He began, as a couple danced closer behind them, forcing the space that separated their bodies to diminish.

It was too much. Michaela instantly became far too claustrophobic to be reckoned with. "I'm sorry," she dropped his hand and tried to squeeze out of the swaying mass. "I can't do this…I'm sorry…"

Finally finding an opening, Michaela started towards it.

"No, wait…I didn't mean anything like that by it…Michaela please…" Daniel called after her, but she ignored his cries.

She walked briskly off the dance floor and away from the crowd of people. Michaela had intended only to stop there and catch her breath, but his calls and earnest, hobbling footsteps followed her, and she was forced to continue on, seeking refuge. He followed, her pace quickened, until she at last led herself to her one haven, praying that he would not follow her in. Quickly she unlocked the door to the clinic and walked in, never bothering to shut the door, simply heading straight to the side window, basking in the silence.

Shadows cast their veil over her pale skin, chilling the flesh that lay open to the night air. There was no color, no contrast in her eyes…no sparkle, or gem…they were merely dull and bland. Yet her beauty remained. Her beauty captivated his heart and stole his senses; which were only to be reclaimed by the sickening feeling of guilt that plunged in his gut. He was powerless; for there lay the woman of his dreams, but meeting her, meant breaking a bond that was sacred.

Again he watched her, as he had for the past weeks, staring so blankly at the star filled sky; the light failing to reach her gaze. He wished to change that; more than anything, he desired to see a flicker, a beam. He wanted to see the smile that had stopped so many in their tracks, to hear the laughter that had once filled this house. Again it would ring; again there would be hope…

He slowly limped towards her, silently. She felt his presence, his gaze; yet she remained turned away, hoping he would see her need to be alone, or more away from him.

Still he staggered towards her. Her beauty amazed and fascinated him; and yet the rigid form that ran through her body distracted Daniel. He knew she wished him to leave, he could sense it from the cool breath that she exhaled, to the grip of her fist, so tightly clasped as if ready to strike if needed. Although his conscience begged him to turn on his heal and march straight back to the dance, he could not. He needed to explain, to amend. He had given Sully his word to take care of his wife, and that's what he needed to do. Not to fall in love with her, but be there if she needed one more pair of ears to speak to, one more hug of reassurance, one more friend to promise her that everything was going to be ok. That's all he was to offer, friendship.

He touched her arm.

Michaela turned from the window to ask him to leave, but found that she instead turned into him. They both froze as their gazes matched. She wanted to scream, to fight, to push away, but she was so scared, so frozen; she could only push the handkerchief firmer into her chest, where her hand lay protectively.

He swayed, unaware of his actions; in a complete trance with her eyes, hazel and brown. It wasn't until Michaela released a nearly silent sob that he noticed the gap between them had narrowed so greatly. Looking back into her gaze, he saw tears swelling there. What was he doing…he couldn't hurt her like this. Instead, he turned away, allowing her to relinquish her tears silently and secretly.

"Michaela, I'm sorry…" Daniel spoke to the opposite wall, unable to turn and face the woman.

Michaela peered through the darkness at him; shock from the experience still having not settled her nerve.

"Sully sent me here to look after you, and all I've done is made a mess of things. I hope you can forgive me…please…I want to be your friend…" His voice cracked slightly as he concluded.

The honesty and sincerity that he spoke with struck a chord in Michaela's heart. Her mind still raced from the series of events that had unfolded, and she walked almost in a daze, circling the silent man. Finally coming to face him, Michaela paused and brought her gaze to meet with his. "I'm sorry as well…I thought I knew what I wanted…I thought I could forget and simply move on, but I can't…and I doubt I will be able to offer anything else than friendship for a long time to come…"

He nodded, knowing this already. "I understand…and I'll never expect anything more. I promise you." Daniel extended his hand to Michaela; an action that, while peculiar, she found quite honorable. She met his grasp and his gaze, smiling up to him for the first time in days.

"Shall we head back to the dance? Dorothy will be missing you." They broke contact and strode from the clinic, reveling in a new sense confidence in themselves and each other. Neither noticed the person striding briskly in the opposite direction, towards the mercantile, away from the scene that broke her heart, and all that she trusted.

* * *

"Well, here goes nothing…" His voice was shaky and unsure as he spoke those final words before catapulting himself from the moving car. For an instant he was immersed with the tingling sensation of falling, as gravity seemed momentarily suspended. However, such emotions quickly fled his descending body, as Sully pelted towards the grassy bank, falling head first down the slight slope. His right shoulder was the first to come in contact with the hard soil, before he rebounded slightly and fell into a painful tumble to the base of the trench. There, at last, he stopped his descent.

A moan interrupted the heavy breathing, as Sully lay on his back trying to move all of his limbs. The pain that shot through each one alerted him of good news; he wasn't paralyzed! Yet the agony that ripped through his shoulder and ribcage also brought him to the realization that his injuries were not limited to mere cuts and bruises. Sully looked down at his right arm; it lay at an abnormal angle from his shoulder and he knew instantly that the arm had been pushed from its socket and would need to be put back into place. Attempting to rise, Sully let out another painful groan, cradling his lower chest with his left arm. "…Broken ribs…" He whispered through a sharp exhale. Finally he reached a sitting position, allowing him to glance around at his surroundings.

He had, in a moment of poor judgment, thought to jump from the baggage car so that he would not be caught by the train engineer or crew when they arrived in the Denver station, less than a mile from where he now lay. Unfortunately, Sully had been so focused on preventing his arrest and imprisonment that he failed to conceptualize the possible injuries he might obtain from leaping out of a moving train. Wincing terribly as he stood, Sully was now well aware of just how close he came to killing himself and all chances of ever finding Michaela again.

He limped towards the lone tree, dreading the next task he would have to endure. Carefully and laboriously, Sully used his left hand to raise his right elbow onto a low branch of the oak, gripping the limb with the rest of his arm. "One…two…" His breath shook. "Three…" Birds took flight above him, as a cry pierced the countryside. Sully dangled from the tree branch, using his own body weight to pull the upper arm out and then back into place with a quiet 'pop'. "Ugh…" Sully cursed, dropping his legs back to the ground while his arm was brought down in an 'L' shape across his front. "…Now what…"

An image of Michaela suddenly emerged into the forefront of his mind. _He saw her caring for a young boy with fair hair and a smile that penetrated any heart. She was laughing at his antics before becoming serious and wrapping the boy's arm gently into a linen sling. "Now I want you to keep your arm still for the next two weeks, Mr. Cooper. This sling will help you remember that…" _

"_Thanks, Dr. Mike!" The little boy smiled before jumping from the table and running past Sully, and through the clinic door…_

The memory faded as quickly as it had begun, leaving Sully alone again amidst the field of wheat and grass. Determining that he was in need of a sling, Sully searched the ditch for his knapsack, which he had thrown out before jumping himself. His eyes carefully scanned the grassy terrain before at last spotting it just beyond the tree. Careful not to move his arm, Sully walked as quickly as his aching body would allow to the sack, swinging it over his neck. Slowly he slipped his injured arm also through the strap, allowing the lower arm to rest in the bulk of the bag, while the straps clung to his neck and back.

"Well…it's as good as it's gonna get…" Sully spoke to himself, deciding he needed to get going. Looking up at the nearly half-peaked sun, he knew he would have to get to Denver in less than thirty minutes in order to catch the nine o'clock train; a task that he knew was almost impossible with his broken ribs. Still, Sully was determined to not allow more time to pass before he would finally find his love, before he would finally fulfill the promise to her that haunted his thoughts and dreams constantly.

Awkwardly pushing himself up the incline with his legs against the mud and grass, Sully slowly ascended the bank before at last throwing himself up and onto the gravel that lay around the steel train tracks. Panting slightly into the finely ground rock, Sully pushed himself up with his uninjured hand and knees, standing finally and facing westwards.

A slight sigh emerged from his lips before whispering, "Well…here we go…"

-- - --

"I'm sorry sir; it would seem you just missed the last train heading to El Paso via Castle Rock, Colorado Springs, and Pueblo…"

Sully sighed and then winced quickly, as his ribs panged sharply in his chest. "Ya sure ya got nothin' even headin' south…"

"For the third time, Mister, that train to El Paso was the last one of the day and you missed it…now I can suggest a hotel where you can spend the night …" The ticket counterman spoke agitatedly.

"No….no I don't got….I just can't…" Sully spoke quietly, acrimony edging his words.

As he started to walk away, the train ticket officer shouted after Sully. "I'm sure the landlords of the hotels will give a soldier, especially an injured one, a discounted rate, sir."

Sully stopped walking and looked back, the bitterness now swept away from his face and voice. "Thank you, but no, I'll be fine."

Again, he turned and began making his way through the bustling streets of Denver. There were so many people; it was overwhelming. The clutter of the wagons combined with the groups of residents walking arm in arm; the venders selling fresh baked goods and ripe fruits and vegetables along the street walkways; the chatter and speed of the city children running and playing through the streets; the last thing Sully recalled being quite so chaotic, was his final battle, the one that nearly took his life.

He suddenly felt nauseous. Weaving in and out of the crowds, Sully made his way to the farthest side of the road, where he was able to lean against the cool glass of a mercantile window. The shade of the building just covered his face, allowing Sully to bask in a slightly cooler temperature as the sick feeling faded from his stomach. Breathing deeply, Sully turned and looked through the window which had provided him with such relief. Within the glass he saw his reflection, fully, for the first time since the accident.

He brought his hand to his hairline. Although quickly becoming too long for the average male gentleman of the day, the cut was so much shorter than what he felt was comfortable; the length which was displayed in the portrait which he treasured so dearly. Slowly his hand crept from the hair to the finely stitched incision that ran from his left eye all the way to his earlobe. While the scarring would, hopefully, remain minimal, Sully could not help but be overtaken with fear that Michaela would fail to even recognize him. In her mind, he remained the same long-haired, tan, and built figure that was framed perfectly beside her in the wedding portrait. In her mind, his face was left unscarred by anything save for the impenetrable love that he felt for her. In her mind…

"In her mind…I'm dead…"

"Can I help you with something, sir?" Sully nearly jumped out of his skin when the shop owner's voice sounded right beside him.

"Oh, no sir…I was just looking…"

The man followed the path that Sully's gaze had once traced and looked into the window gallery. Seeing the man's confused facial expression, Sully too looked through the glass window, feeling his face reddening horribly as he looked up at the women's lingerie and negligees. Coughing slightly the shop owner turned back towards Sully. "Um, if you're looking for some company, there's a saloon just down the street here…"

"No…" Sully quickly objected. "No, thank ya…but I was actually wondering what the quickest way to Colorado Springs was…"

"Well," The mercantile owner coughed again, "the train to El Paso is probably…"

"I'm sorry, I already missed the train…now could ya tell me what the shortest road to the Springs is?" Sully interrupted again, hoping the man didn't take him for being rude or arrogant.

If he did, the shop owner did not show it. "Oh, of course…well, if you walk to the next intersection, and turn left you'll find yourself on the road south…it'll lead ya all the way to Colorado Springs. But be careful, there's been word of many Indian attacks."

"Thank you, sir." Sully said graciously before taking off as fast as his crippled body would allow.

"Wait!" The man shouted after Sully. "You're walkin'? Do you have any idea how far away Colorado Springs is?"

But his cries fell on deaf ears as Sully had his attention fixed on the road ahead. The shop owner shook his head and spoke quietly to his wife, who had recently joined him on the store porch. "That soldier thinks he's gonna travel nearly seventy-miles through Indian infested land, injured as he is, and walking the entire way…"

His wife smiled slightly. "It seems he needs to get somewhere...or to someone."

"What makes you say that?"

"There was something in his eyes, I suppose…and well, any sensible man would simply wait for the train to come tomorrow."

The man turned from the road to look his wife straight in the eye. "Other than the fact that he just took off into the wilderness with clearly no idea of where he was heading, what would give you the impression that he was lacking in sense?"

The lady laughed at her husband's joke, and softly spoke again. "Well, in all seriousness, the answer is quite obvious… he's in love." She paused, looking back to see Sully at last reach the intersection and turn left as instructed. "It's all for that woman, the one in the photograph he was holding…that's the woman he's walking for, that's the woman he'll stop at nothing to get to."

-- --

The sun bore its midday glare down unto the hilly road. Everything ached. The pain that had harnessed his body in the previous days was miniscule compared to the pure agony that overwhelmed every step he took down that lonesome dirt road. Sully had walked for nearly three hours now, and determined that he had probably only traveled around eight to ten miles. He cursed at himself, nature, and everything else he could find as he limped down the beaten path.

"I've gotta find you…I'm going to find you." He whispered under his breath, gripping the photograph tightly within his fist.

He sank in the dust; his mouth dry and barren, sweat washing down his features like rain against the rock. Looking up at the sun, Sully felt dizziness wash over him, along with a nauseating feeling of hunger. He quickly stuffed the picture into his pocket and withdrew the canteen from the loop of his makeshift sling. Upon reaching the outer regions of Denver, Sully had managed to spot a well, from which he filled his container with water. Allowing a small sip of the cool liquid to run across his chapped lips and through his course mouth and throat, Sully preserved the feeling in his mind, basking in its refreshment and soothing contentment. In a matter of seconds the emotion subsided and he ached for more.

Sully's sapphire eyes looked yearningly at the nearly full canteen. "Ya've gotta save it…ya don't know how long it'll be 'til ya find water again…" With every muscle in his body working against the action, Sully popped the cork back into its place and attached the canteen back to its place on his strap.

Again, he walked. _Left foot, right foot; left, right; one in front of the other; to keep going; to keep moving; to keep breathing; to keep living; to, to…_

The world began to swirl. Sully grabbed the canteen, ripped the cork from the spout and drank the water within. One sip, then another. He cursed himself. Not bothering to wipe the liquid from his mouth between gulps. He was still thirsty. "No…you've gotta save it…"

The sun rays seemed to dance mockingly on the path before him, creeping up on him, searing his flesh, summoning sweat to the surface, pulling the liquid from him as he drank. Sully wasn't sure how he landed on his knees, but whether her knelt willingly or tripped from disorientation, he found himself with his hands hailing the dust below. He coughed violently as dirt agitated his already dehydrated state. Looking back, Sully saw the canteen lying open on the road, the water spilling quickly from it.

"What do I do?" Sully sat down fully onto the ground. "I have to get to her…but…" He looked up to the sky. "Please…" He begged the spirits, "…please, help me find my heart song…help me get to her."

Silence followed his cry, as Sully sunk back into himself and gazed back at the emptying canteen. The water that spilled from it quickly settled into the cracked ground, leaving less than a puddle. He stared at it, as if he were attempting to levitate the liquid back into its container; then suddenly, it moved. Sully blinked unsure of what just happened. He looked up past the canteen and down the road from which he had come. Sully instantly became aware of the steady crackling of wagon wheels that were approaching the path he lay strewn in.

In a moment of pure agony, Sully pushed himself from the ground and picked up his canteen again, all the while ensuring that he did not move his injured arm. Again he glanced down the road. The wagon carried one man and a load of supplies behind him. The man was somewhat short in stature, however very muscularly built. As he approached Sully, he slowed the horses and removed his peddler's cap to wipe away the sweat that lingered on his dark skin.

"Are ya alright there, mister?" The man's eyes scoured down the soldier's body, taking in the multiple injuries that covered him.

Sully wasn't sure how to respond. No, of course he wasn't alright, however he wasn't about to ask anything from a stranger. And yet what really irked his mind was the déjà vu that the man before him caused. "…I uh…I'm fine thank ya…"

The black man nodded wearily, his gaze focused on those eyes; so blue, so pure…so familiar, but from where, from whom? "…You wouldn't happen to be heading to Colorado Springs now would ya?"

The question caught Sully off guard. "Um…yeah but…"

"I only ask because the shop owner in town…we've done business together for a while and he told me I'd come across a union soldier who had it in his mind to walk all the way to the Springs…" The man explained, still trying to figure out where he had seen those eyes before. "…if ya'd like a ride…"

"Thanks but…I've got nothin' to pay ya with…" Sully said modestly.

The man shrugged. "That's ok…just a little help unloading these supplies should suffice."

Sully wasn't sure what to say. The man seemed genuine enough, and still so familiar. Looking down at the empty canteen and his injured frame, Sully finally nodded.

The man grinned and extended his arm to help the soldier up. "Good…name's Robert E…"

-- -- --

Cool, crème fabric drifted over her flesh like silk against polish stone. Basking in the feeling of the free cotton night shift, Michaela knelt down onto the bed and lay beside her sleeping daughter. She gazed at the beautiful child, running her finger across the baby's smooth skin and lightly kissing Katie's forehead. "You're so beautiful…" Michaela smiled wearily, before picking the enfant up and rocking her slowly. "Your mama loves you so much…so much…don't ever forget that, my love, don't ever forget it." Her voice echoed unknowingly as she thought of the night's events.

_After coming to harmony with Daniel, the pair had walked back to the dance floor in search of the company that each had brought with them. Michaela had quickly found Brian, still at the punch stand, and much to her surprise, Colleen. _

"_There you are!" The young lady had proclaimed, worry clearly etched into her face. "We looked everywhere for you…well, I did…" Colleen gave her brother a nasty look._

"_I told Colleen you'd be fine…I told her__,__'__she probably just wanted ta get away from ya Colleen, you and __yer__ constant naggin'…"_

"_Nagging!?" Colleen turned to face her brother._

"_Children!" Michaela spoke loudly to be heard over the dance music. "I think we've all had quite a night for ourselves__,__ lets head on home__."__ She wrapped her arm around Colleen's shoulder and offered her hand to Brian, who quickly took it. "Now, if you two __wouldn't__ mind waiting by the wagon, I have to go find Grace…"_

_Michaela had quickly found the woman behind her pies stand, still coddling Katie in her arms. After retrieving and thanking Grace, Michaela scanned the area for Dorothy, hoping to apologize for stealing Daniel away from her date. Not seeing her friend, the young mother decided that she could find her in the morning before arriving at the clinic. The ride home had been quiet and peaceful, as all those in the party were much too tired to even attempt at conversation._

Despite the awkward moments that still made her stomach shift uncomfortably, the evening had turned lovely. Michaela felt freer than she had in a long time, both physically and emotionally; and she could tell that even Colleen had opened up much more from the experience.

Again she turned her attention to her daughter in her arms. "And you my dear, you got more attention than you knew what to do with from your Aunt Grace…" She whispered lightly.

A light breeze stole warmth from Michaela's arm, waking her from the private moment she was having with her daughter. Sighing softly, the mother stood and walked to Katie's crib which stood against the opposite wall. Michaela laid her gently into the soft fabrics, tucking the sleeping child in, and pausing to softly caress the babe's cheek.

A loud "neigh" from the barn, followed by a crash caused Michaela to jump from her position over Katie. Running to the window, Michaela peered through the darkness, searching for a sign of movement, or explanation for the ruckus. There was nothing at first, pure darkness, pure silence. But then…

"Ma…what was that? What's going on?"

Michaela nearly ran over the children as she took off down the stairs. She came to a screeching halt at the top of the stair case and turned back to Colleen and Brian. "I want you two to go into my room and lock the door, turn down the lamp and stay away from the window."

"Dr. Mike…"

"Don't come out unless you hear my voice, alright? It's probably nothing...but…" Michaela's mind drifted to what she had seen from her bedroom window. "…I just want you to be careful…"

"You too, Ma…" Brian ran from his sister's side and wrapped his tiny arms around Michaela's waist. Michaela smiled, ruffling the child's hair before pulling away.

"I'll be fine…now, you two…get on into the room."

Both children did as they were instructed, sensing the urgency in Michaela's voice, and proceeded to her room. Hearing the bolt click in the door knob, Michaela silently continued down the steps. An unused candle stick lay on the side table next to the fireplace along with matches and a holder. Michaela grabbed all of these items and headed for the door, striking the match against a wooden plank as she past. The flame crackled in the darkness, emitting a small glow in the room. Carefully, Michaela touched the match to the wick allowing for the energy to pass between wood and fiber.

The light from the ignition warmed her tired face as she gazed through the fire to what lay beside the door. "God…please be with me…" She breathed as she reached down to grab the rifle.

Michaela threw open the door and looked out towards the barn. "Hello?" She called out into the night air, her voice shaking violently. At first she thought she might have been imagining what she saw from her window, as darkness now cloaked the inside of the barn. And yet…

A flicker, then a glow filled the stable walls. "Who's there please…?" Michaela whispered, wanting to be answered, yet longing to remain unheard, unnoticed, untouched. A silhouette now penetrated the constant blaze, tall and lean, yet masculine and strong. Footsteps echoed, though they were muffled by the hay laden floor. The silhouette grew as the distance between maker and exit shrank. Michaela placed the candle onto the ground, and raised the rifle to her chin, aiming into the darkness.

Slowly, silhouette became figure, and figure continued its walk towards Michaela. "Please! Don't hurt me…I'll shoot…"

But she wouldn't, she couldn't. The rifle dropped from her hands and landed with a thud in the dirt. She looked up. The figure had stopped walking. His face was veiled in shadows, yet the sparkle of those iridescent blue eyes still broke through the darkness to find hers.

She gazed at them. So familiar, so full of fear, full of confusion; but the anger that had once lingered in them seemed to have dripped away with past tears shed.

Michaela stepped forward, away from the rifle and light, now her body engulfed in darkness. "After all this time…you…you came back…"

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Please Review! Thank you!


	26. Chapter 26: The Best Kind of Dream

_Before I begin, I just want to give an enormously HUGE thanks to all my readers and all those who have supported me in writing this story. Getting this done was certainly never easy, and at some points down-right near impossible. Thank you for sticking with me and this story. I want to give an extra big thanks first to Renny for being the best editor any duck could ever ask for (even if I have to put up with all your red tape) and also to Lynn for just being AMAZING, and for sticking with me, begrudgingly, after I killed their son. I'm SORRY! Ok, that's it; enjoy the final chapter._

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Chapter 26: The Best Kind of Dream

Warm air from a hidden valley brushed the glittering mountain peaks far above, saturating itself on the snow laden inclines. Small droplets tumbled down from the white-layered confines and were picked up by the sultry breeze. Quickly the warmth dissipated from the wind, as cool watery beads mingled with air particles, weighing the current down. Down, down, it rushed; rolling across the rocky cliffs, pushing away the dry heat that lingered beneath the tree branches and brush. A descending whistle announced that the friction from the obstacles was causing the once roaring wind to whittle away; slowly becoming nothing but a cool breeze brushing across the face of a homebound soldier.

Sully shivered ever so slightly, glancing up towards the majestic peaks that loomed above. Other than the crackle of the wagon wheels against the dust on the road, the journey had remained silent. Sully did not mind; in fact he preferred it. He was dreading the time when Robert E. would at last ask for his name, ask why he set out to Colorado Springs in the first place, ask him anything. It was not as though Sully specifically distrusted Robert E.; how could he, when the man was graciously offering him a nearly no-expense necessary ride home? However, Sully did not feel he could express such things to a man he barely knew, despite the tugging feeling in his gut that told him there was a past history. He simply did not know if he could fully answer such questions to himself, let alone a near stranger.

Memories had returned to his mind, and yet he knew they were fragmented; scattered vignettes of events that surely entailed much more than the few words that were spoken. For instance, he knew his name, but not where he was born, where he was from, or where his biological family was. He knew where he needed to go, and yet the reason remained a simple magnetism in his heart and a memory of a promise made so long ago. But how long was 'long ago'? How long had it now been since he had set foot in this town he sought? And this woman, his wife, his 'heartsong'; Michaela. Who was she truly, but the object of his determination? Who was she, but his love? And perhaps the most fearful question that glided in and out of Sully's mind: If so much time **had** in fact past, who was to say that Michaela would still be there waiting for him? Especially considering he, Sully, was supposedly dead. So many questions, so little answers; he knew the person he was, but not _who_ he was.

"Swing low, sweet chariot. Coming for to carry me home…" Robert E. sang to himself, breaking the silence and Sully's train of thought.

Letting out a soft sigh, Sully focused his attention away from the encumbering thoughts, and back onto the nature surrounding him.

"_Sometimes I'm up and sometimes I'm down; coming for to carry me home…"_

He became instantly entranced by the blissful environment, gazing at the sun beams which broke through the forest branches, casting heavenly shafts of light onto the forest floor.

"_But still my soul feels heavenly bound; coming for to carry me home…"_

The rays danced hypnotically with the subtle gusts of wind, which fled through the trees like a restless bee. Everything seemed so peaceful, so beautiful, so…

"So…ya got a name, sir?" Robert E. asked casually, glancing over at his traveling companion, his mind reeling as he tried to recall where he had seen such a marine gaze before.

Sully remained silent, suddenly too distracted to have heard the question at hand.

"Mister…?"

"Shhh…" Sully hushed the man and brought his hand up, silently telling Robert E. to stop the wagon.

Doing as he was instructed, Robert E. quickly pulled back on the reins, letting out a low 'whoa' to command the horses. "What is it?"

Sully placed his index finger against his lips, reinforcing the need for quiet. Peering at the wooded hall that encompassed them, he carefully stepped out of the wagon, shaking his head. After a minute of nothing, not the snap of a twig or fall of a leaf, Sully turned back towards the wagon and Robert E. "I'm sorry…I swore…I swore I saw…" But his voice failed to conclude as he looked up at the brown eyes that seemed to widen with each passing second. "Robert E…?"

"Look out!" The blacksmith cried out, yet it was far too late, as the handle of a knife came slashing toward the back of Sully's head.

Managing to duck just in time to miss a critical blow, Sully twirled around, coming face to face with a heavily tanned man. From the feather that adorned his midnight shroud of hair to the primitive axe and blade that were held at the ready in his palm, no one could mistake the man for anything but an Indian. However, what came to Sully's mind in the moments that followed was not fear or aggression, but a memory of a knowledge forgotten and unused for nearly a year.

"No! Hová'âháne! Nánéehove hóovéhe!" The words slipped across his tongue and through his lips before he dared to stop them. Only seconds would tell whether a memory could be enough to save his life.

* * *

"You came back…" She said again, more defiantly.

The young man finally acknowledged her statement with a slight nod, before dropping his gaze; ashamed of the tears that now streamed from his eyes. "I'm sorry…I should of…" He cut off, a sob choking the words in his throat.

Michaela embraced the man softly, as he broke down, crying into her copper locks. Slowly and soothingly she stroked her delicate fingers through his golden hair. "It's alright, Matthew…it's alright…"

His legs were beginning to buckle as he silently shook his head, still unable to speak as sob after sob was emitted from his gut. Michaela felt the young man slowly shifting his weight on her, and she knew she would not be able to hold her strength for much longer. "Here…let's go inside, why don't we…"

Still bearing most of the weight, Michaela led Matthew into the homestead, leaving the gun and candle out in the yard. Awkwardly, she used her free hand to search the heavily shadowed wall for the lantern. "There…" Michaela whispered when her fingers at last gripped the knob and light flooded the room.

Matthew finally released his weight from Michaela's shoulder as he stumbled to the dining table, sinking down into one of the chairs and burying his head in his hands. Michaela ran back outside momentarily to retrieve the gun and light source. Gazing down at the weapon, she felt a rock drop into the pit of her stomach as she considered the consequences that could have occurred had she not dropped the rifle when she did. She pushed past the emotion quickly however, realizing that another was in much greater need of her care; her thoughts of the "what ifs" would keep.

Bolting the door behind her, Michaela leaned the rifle back up against the wall and blew out the candle, "Here, let me get some water boiling and I'll make you a glass of tea…"

Matthew's cries had quieted now to an occasional sniffle, which again he tried to muffle behind his hands. But there was no hiding the tear raked flesh on his face, or bloodshot eyes which gazed up at Michaela as she handed him the warm cup of herbal tea.

"Thank ya…" Matthew whispered politely.

"Of course." Michaela took the seat across from him and began to sip at her own glass of tea. A beat of silence passed between the two, as neither knew how to begin. As it were, neither would be given the chance.

"Ma? Is everything al –" Brian's voice sounded from the top of the steps. He was suddenly cut off by Colleen's shriek.

"MATTHEW!" Brother and sister bounded down the steps to greet their once estranged sibling. Matthew smiled through the tears that were still forming in his blue eyes, embracing his little sister and brother as they threw themselves at him.

Michaela watched the scene from afar, collecting the two cups and bringing them to the sink to be washed. It had been so long since she had seen such a smile engross Colleen's fair face. It had been so long since Brian's playful laugh filled the house, lighting the room and sparking joy within all those present. It had been so long since she, Michaela, had cried out of happiness, out of delight, out of bliss. Turning away so that no one would mistake her tears for sadness and ruin the moment at hand, she proceeded to wash the glasses.

"Why didn't you contact us?" Colleen asked as she pulled away from the tight embrace.

Michaela turned back from her washing momentarily; yes, she had been wondering the same thing.

Matthew's gaze dropped almost immediately, and his feet began to shuffle lightly across the ground, clearly as ashamed of his negligence as anyone. "Well…I wanted ta….really I did…I just…" He paused, and surprisingly, he glanced towards Michaela addressing her more than anyone else. "…It's like you said Dr. Mike…I was runnin'…runnin' from the truth and all that hurt me…" Turning back to face his siblings, Matthew gulped and spoke slowly, "…what I didn't realize, is that by running from the pain, I was also runnin' from the joy…I forgot the one thing Ma lived so dearly by…ya can't run from your problems, ya have to face em…"

"…You have to live the life you were born to live." Michaela spoke quietly as she took a seat next to Matthew.

The young man gave Michaela a slight smile and nod, before turning back to his brother and sister. "I'm really sorry I left like I did. I'm sorry I let ya'll down…"

"Ya didn't let no one down, Matthew!" Brian quickly chimed in, tightening his loving embrace on Matthew's arm.

Matthew, however, could not see past the guilt that plagued his body and every thought and action that he pursued.

"Matthew?" Colleen's sweet voice penetrated the silent tension, her hand resting consolingly on her older brother's shoulder.

Michaela could see the torment that befell the young man, and wished she could make all the pain vanish from his heart. She knew what it felt like to lose everything; everything that was important, or seemed important; everything that kept a person strong; living, breathing for one more second of one more day. She knew what it felt like to suddenly realize that, in fact, there was more to live for; what it felt like to then recognize the mistake that one had made in pushing the good things so far away. And yet more than anything Michaela knew that for those who truly mattered, those who truly loved and cared, they would always come back, they would always make themselves attainable; they would always wait for 'ready'. Matthew was ready.

"Matthew…we're so glad to have you back." Michaela spoke softly and kindly, beckoning his eyes with her persistent gaze. He resisted at first, but soon succumbed. Aquamarine reddened by tears stared back, so sad, so confused, so exhausted from life. And yet, she still saw the hope for a new beginning, a second chance. "Why don't we all go up to bed now…Matthew's had a long journey and we all had a very…exciting day." Michaela spoke with a smile, as she stood up from the chair and put her hands upon Brian's shoulders.

"Ah Ma, I want ta hear 'bout Matthew's adventures!"

Matthew couldn't help the slight flinch which ripped through him upon hearing the intimate term, once solely reserved for the mother he mourned so much. Michaela empathetically pretended not to notice. "Not now Brian, we all need to be well rested for tomorrow. I'm going to need to head into town early for an appointment with Mr. Bray, and I'll need to have you up so I can give you instructions for what needs to be accomplished tomorrow…"

"Aw man…we have to get things accomp– ...accompished…" Brian whined. "…that's just another way of sayin' chores…"

"Brian! Dr. Mike let us have a treat by goin' to the dance tonight… you don't have any idea how hard that was for her…now ya need to hush up!" Colleen snapped, revealing her bossy side to a quite perplexed Matthew.

"Colleen!" Michaela placed her hand to her chest breathing coolly. "See, this is exactly what I was speaking of; we're all over-exhausted…now Brian and Colleen, please I need you to get back in bed."

"Yes ma'am." The younger children said in unison before they turned to give their brother one last hug and sluggishly crawled up the stairs.

Michaela let out a soft sigh when at last the second door clicked shut and the sound of scuffling feet died. Matthew remained in the same position, although his hands were now raking through his thick golden mane of hair. While he was quite accustom to the bickering between his siblings, never before had he seen Colleen address Brian, or anyone for that matter, with such a direct and reprehensive tone in her voice. Furthermore, never had he seen Michaela turn a brighter shade of pink or Brian become more silent. Something, something drastic had obviously occurred while he was gone, something that had completely altered the lives and personalities of those whom he held most dear to his heart.

"Brian has an extra cot in his room, if you wouldn't mind sharing…" Michaela's tender voice broke Matthew's reverie. "…however, if you were hoping for more privacy, which I certainly wouldn't hold against you, I'm afraid the only other place is the loft in the barn."

Matthew nodded, silently thanking the woman for her continued kindness and understanding. Michaela retreated momentarily to a side closet before returning with a small stack of blankets and towels in her arms. Handing them to the young man, she began to turn away, however she was stopped as Matthew placed his hand on her arm. "Thank you."

Michaela shook her head. "It's no trouble at all."

They stared at each other for a few moments, silently communicating through their gaze. Then Matthew broke the contact, dropping his head and shaking it slowly. "No…It is a trouble…I've been…I shoulda listened to you. I was wrong to have left like I did."

"Everyone has their own ways of grieving, believe me I know…" Michaela's voice broke ever so slightly, but Matthew failed to notice.

"No, I shoulda stayed with my family, taken care of them. Instead I…I left that burden completely on you and…" Matthew trailed off. "…I abandoned my family durin' its greatest time of need."

Tears renewed themselves in eyes of blue and green. Michaela grasped the hand that had prevented her dismissal, giving it a tight squeeze. "We all make mistakes, we all grieve and within that time do things that…that we would never condone or want to do. And yet, somehow, someway we all must find it in ourselves to move on. And more so, we must find it within ourselves to forgive our own actions."

Matthew could only shake his head as a second set of sobs threatened to rip open his heart.

"Yes…I know it's hard. And I know I have yet to forgive myself for what I have done over these past three months…" Michaela paused, her mind reflecting over all that had happened, all that she had seen and felt and done. "But, in order to fully move on, to fully push past the pain, we must tie up all the loose ends."

His blue-eyed stare finally rose again to meet Michaela's, greeting hers with slight confusion amidst the pain. Part of him wished to know what had happened while he was gone, and yet seeing the sorrow still confined within the forest of green and gold, he dared not ask.

"Now…I do think it would do us both good to get some sleep…" Michaela rose, releasing Matthew's hand, and walking towards the stairs. "I'll be heading into town around seven, would you like me to pick you up anything? I mean, of course you're welcome to come with me, but if you would rather sleep in…" The young woman rambled, finding she was thrown somewhat off kilter by the emotional wave that had engulfed her during the conversation.

Matthew shook his head. "No, if I need anythin', I'll walk into town. Maybe I can even take Colleen and Brian if they get their chores done in time."

Michaela gave him a slight smile and nod. "That would be wonderful. I'll have Katie with me, so actually Colleen's presence would be most helpful…"

"Katie?"

Michaela sighed, suddenly realizing all that Matthew had indeed missed while he was away. "Katie's my daughter…my baby…I had her over three months ago."

"Oh! Oh, well, congratulations…" Matthew spoke somewhat awkwardly. "…And how was Sully?"

_Silence._

"I mean…I bet he was ecstatic! If only he could have been there…" Matthew's voice faded, seeing how incredibly uncomfortable Michaela appeared; he figured that the man's absence was still a difficult subject for the young mother. "Well, I'll see ya tomorrow then…"

Michaela let out an uncharacteristic high-pitched tone in response, before turning and again attempting to climb the staircase.

"And Dr. Mike…" Michaela halted one last time, gripping the banister for support. "Thank ya."

The sweet smell of wooded mist filled her nostrils, taunting her senses; beckoning her to come, relax, break away from societal proprieties; urging her to enjoy the nature surrounding her. But Michaela Quinn was not one to drift from her ever busy schedule, especially when the reason was one of self-indulgence. Although disappointed in her own lack of spontaneity, Michaela smiled, giving the horses a soft nudge with the reins.

It had been a good night, despite the turmoil brought on by Daniel's presence; it had been a restful sleep, despite the strenuous questions which came with Matthew's arrival. Quite surprisingly, Michaela managed to, for the first time in months, sleep soundly through the night. What an amazing experience it was, Michaela thought to herself, to not be forced to relive countless images of her son's birth, and sub-sequential death; to not be awaken by her own cries and screams she witnessed the falling figure of Sully, shot down just as he extended his hand to her. To not dream of Sully's return, to not be convinced that she would wake up in his arms, only to find that the arms that surrounded her were her own, and the body that she pressed against for warmth, was nothing by a cold feathered-pillow.

A tear threatened to jostle her composure, but she quickly pushed the memories from her mind as they came around the final bend of the road. The sun's rays splashed upon Michaela's radiant face, warming her hands which had previously been shadowed by the tree canopies above. Squinting into the blinding light, Michaela scanned the meadow before her. Reverend Johnson stood on the steps leading up to the church. As she waved 'hello' to the minister, Michaela smiled and spoke softly to Katie. "We need to get you baptized, little one…"

Yet as the words left her mouth, Michaela's mind suddenly flashed back to a memory of Sully specifically revealing his wish to have their children, whenever they came into the world, also be inducted by Cloud Dancing and the Cheyenne people. The grin that lit her face quickly faded at the thought, but Michaela did not allow the sadness to overcome her. Instead she looked down at her daughter, offering a weak smile despite the pain which bound her heart. "And you also must meet your Cheyenne father…"

So preoccupied was she with her own thoughts, Michaela didn't even notice the various scowls she was receiving from several of the men she passed by on her way through the field. Likewise, Michaela failed to see the scattered huddles of women pointing at her and exchanging whispers of her name as she made her way down the bustling town road. It was not until the doctor began to turn past the Mercantile that she saw the sour glare plastered across Loren's face as she greeted the shop keeper.

An acidic stone fell deep within her gut as Michaela felt the icy glares that burned into her from all directions. Confused and uncomfortable, she dropped her gaze, jerking back on the reins to halt Bear and Flash. Hank's alluring laugh echoed from across the street, carried by the same force that seared her back, heart, and lungs with his penetrating eyes. Wanting nothing but to escape the cold atmosphere that engulfed her, Michaela jumped from her seat and quickly began to unhitch the horses from their tethered restraints.

"So Michaela…" Hank's voice broke the woman's concentration. "…a little bird said you had yourself quite a night last night."

Shaking her head, Michaela chose not to give Hank the benefit of her reaction. Clearly her presence at the dance last night had simply been a surprise to many of the town folk; which to be quite honest was a surprise even to her. Finally disengaging the last latch, Michaela tied the horses to the provided post and rushed to retrieve her medical bag and Katie from the wagon seat.

As she reached up into the front of the wagon, the shiver that ran down Michaela's back intensified as the whiskey indulged breath of two men coated her exposed neck. Michaela hugged Katie closer to her chest and tightened her grip on the leather-shelled handle of her medical bag. Turning slowly, she found herself face to face with Jake and Hank, looming like prison guards over her.

"Well, it didn't take ya too long to get over Sully did it?" Jake asked slyly, taking another sip from the bottle of whiskey.

The mayor's putrid breath sickened Michaela almost as much as the question he asked. "I beg your pardon?"

"No beggin' necessary, Michaela…" Hank smiled coyly, enjoying the fun they were having with her rattled emotions. "…but ya know, I did offer ya job when ya first came to town. Ya could've been makin' money off of this life style you've been livin'."

Michaela felt herself backing up to the wagon, perplexed and nauseous from the fumes and inappropriate inquiries. "Please, I don't understand! What are you talking about…?"

"No see…but what we'd really like to know…" Jake cut the lady doctor off, smiling first at Hank before looking back at Michaela. "…who kisses better, Sully or Daniel?"

* * *

_Silence. Stillness. Waiting for the blow. Waiting for the fatal impact. Waiting…waiting._

"…Hová'âháne! Nánéehove hóovéhe!" Sully shouted again, not daring to open his eyes, which had reflexively flinched shut when he saw the blade glitter in the sun light. "Hóovéhe... hóovéhe…friend, I'm your friend…" He breathed, slowly opening his eyes.

The native man still held his weapon aloft, however it was not with the same aggressive stance which he bore before. Now he wore a look of confusion, his eyes following Sully's length, taking in the symbolic uniform, yet puzzled by his knowledge of the ancient language. "Étsêhésenestse?"

"Do not be tricked! This man is a soldier; he is waiting for our weakness to be displayed!" Another Cheyenne spoke in the native tongue from his position in the road, in front of the wagon.

The second Indian's words renewed confidence in the first, as he tightened his grip on the blade. "No! Hová'âháne!" Sully shouted again, continuing in the dialect he knew so well, but seemed so foreign. "Please, I am a friend to the Cheyenne. My name is Byron Sully; I fought for your rights back in Colorado Springs, before the Army drove you to the Cripple Creek Reservation…"

"Yes, this same Army whose stripes you bear now…" The Cheyenne warrior grasping the knife called as he made his third advance on Sully.

"No, no, no, no! Please, listen…I…I never wanted to join this Army…it was…it was…" Sully trailed off memories spilling forth like an unbound river. _Abigail, Hannah, their deaths and his depression; his sniper training, his resignation, and then years later the letter that sparked everything…_

_He saw her tear raked face and shaking figure and took in a deep breath before rushing to catch her falling body. Michaela broke down; sobbing into her beloved's shoulder, soaking his shirt with her misery._

"_Oh Michaela, what is it? Shh…I know…I know this is hard. I don't want to…God; I don't want to do this…" He whispered gently into her ear, as he held her trembling body in his arms._

_Michaela shook her head and tried to catch her breath between sobs. "Then don't…please…please don't leave me…"_

"_I wish…you know I wish I could…but there's no way to get out of this. I'd be a wanted man if I didn't go."_

"_I know…I know…but…I love you…I couldn't bear to lose you, Sully!" Michaela cried, taking in short, heaving, gasps of air._

_Sully cradled Michaela's head delicately in his hands and stared deep into her eyes, vowing his very soul to her. "I promise you Michaela…I will get back to you…I will do everything humanly possible to get back to you! I love you…we'll be together again…I promise you…"_

"I promise…" Sully breathed, his fingers delicately stroking his bottom lip, which tingled with the memory of a distant kiss.

"How can we trust you?" The leading Cheyenne spoke quickly and sharply, now doubting of the sanity of the man before him as he seemed to have drifted into some sort of a trance.

"Cloud Dancing…" Sully thought aloud. "Cloud Dancing, is he still your Medicine Man?" His inquiry was met with suspicious glances and silence. "Please…is he…has something happened to him?"

"How do you know of our Medicine Man? What do you want with him?" The warrior asked.

Sully shook his head, seeing that they still did not understand. "No…I was a translator for the Cheyenne….a…while ago…" Sully hesitated to give an exact time as he, himself still was unsure. "Cloud Dancing, he was a…he saved me long ago, when I was nearly dead. He is my Cheyenne brother. Náhevésenéhenôtse. Please, if you bring me to him, he will confirm this story and more."

Sully grew silent as he watched the two warriors look back and forth at each other, wordlessly deciding on whether to believe him or not.

"We will bring you to Cloud Dancing…"

"Hahoo"

"But…" The other Dog Soldier interrupted Sully, not hesitating to reveal the reflection of his hand crafted blade. "…should your story be incorrect, or should you show any signs of hostility, you will be killed without question…first your friend, then you…"

"No…" Sully looked up at Robert E. who was still in the wagon, staring at Sully with disbelief, unable to understand a word of the conversation thus far. "No you have to let this man go…he has done nothing to the Cheyenne, and recall that he has been at the whip of the white man as well…please, grant him safe passage…"

Silence, then "Fine…"

"Thank you…I'll just say goodbye to him…let him know I'll be leaving…" Sully spoke in a soft voice, turning back to address Robert E.; however, the man was quicker to speak than Sully.

"My God almighty…" Robert E.'s eyes stared straight into Sully's, disbelief written in every inch of his face. "What is Michaela gonna say when she finds out you're alive…"

"Michaela…" Sully breathed, hearing for the first time, another human speak her name. "Michaela…you know Michaela…"

Robert E.'s face contorted into a look of amusement and utter disbelief at the same time. "Do I know Dr. Mike? Sully did you get a bump on the head or somethin'?" _Silence._ "Sully you don't know who I am, do ya…?"

Sully shook his head. "I'm sorry Robert E. I…I know I've met you. I know we were friends, but…"

"No…it's ok…this war's been hard on everyone…even without a bump on the head, not so sure I'd remember all my friends when all my eyes could see was the dead from battle…I'm sorry…"

Again Sully shook his head, oppressing the memories that Robert E so clearly defined, forcing himself to regain his focus. "It's fine…Robert E. I'm goin' with the Cheyenne, I'm gonna meet with Cloud Dancin'…they're grantin' ya safe passage to Colorado Springs, but I need ya to do me a favor when ya get there…I need ya to tell Michaela I'm comin'…I need ya to tell her I'm gonna get to her…I promise…"

"Sully…what…"

"Time to go." The Indian soldier spoke in the native language, grabbing Sully's dislocated arm roughly, causing the man to scream out in pain.

"Sully!" Robert E. cried.

"Go!" Sully grunted through gritted teeth, the pain still searing the ligaments of his arm. "Go and tell Michaela…"

Robert E looked one last time on his old friend, so different yet so much the same. Finally nodding in acceptance of his task, the dark skinned man whipped the reins onto the horses' backs, and was off like a bolt of lightning down the dusty road. Letting out a painful breath, Sully looked up at his detainees only to see the blunt form of a rifle butt coming down on his already injured head. _Inevitable, inescapable blackness._

* * *

"_Let us begin…Oenikika"_

His eyes opened, slits of dim light peering through his lashes. Two course yet tender hands rubbed gently against his temples.

Ééma émaome.

He twitched with the shrill cry, before relaxing into the furs beneath him.

Heséeo'ôtse.

Smoke, or was it fog, or mist, rain, steam…it smothered him.

Énaesëtse….

Sage…sweet grass…cedar…and tobacco. The smell detoxified him.

Vé'ho'ôtse. Étsêhetâho'hova.

Whether he was conscience or not was undeniably impossible to tell.

Mónêhé'še…?

_I promise you, Michaela…_

_What do I say in such a letter…_

_We regret to inform you…_

_Oh but there is so much to say…_

_How much I love you…_

_Lieutenant Byron Sully…_

_My Heartsong…_

_That your husband…_

_I hope you can forgive me…_

_It should never have been told in a letter..._

_Knocked down telegraph lines…_

_I blame myself for her death…_

_Brian and Colleen…_

_Don't know where to begin…_

_Come back to me…_

_You promised…_

_So many joys…_

_Experiencing melancholia…_

_Né'áahtovêstse…_

_I promised Charlotte I would take care of them…_

_Has been shot in action…_

_Dear Sully, tragic events have occurred…_

_It was her last wish…_

_Michaela refuses to contact you…_

_I was so afraid…_

_Hová'âháne…_

_I can't bear to think of you in such awful conditions…_

_I wouldn't blame you if you were upset with me…_

_What's the point in life if you can't live it…_

_Three week's time…_

_I've known about this since the day before you left…_

_Maybe even sooner…_

_I can't help but think of you and where you are…_

_Closer just a little…_

_Come back to me…_

_I'll be able to release you from your duties…_

_Storm in Denver…_

_**Bang**__ to the death…_

_I suppose I'll start by telling you…_

_Connection broken…_

_**Bang**__ to the light…_

_My love for you is so unlimited…_

_But it is necessary that you know that…_

_You know what they say Lieutenant Sully…_

_**Bang**__ to all that was once believed, that was once stood up for…_

_I have something very special to tell you, Sully…_

_We apologize for this inconvenience…_

_A__bout 'red at night, sailor's delight…_

_You created a new life in me…_

_Sully…_

_Never dropping his gaze from the blood-red sky as dawn breeched…_

_But Sully…_

_Mé'êševoto…_

_What's more is that…_

_I'm pregnant._

_All my love, Your Michaela._

_**Bang**__to the end of being…_

_**And the world swirled and blinded, crushed and pounded; confusing and disorienting him, until it all fell with a mighty blow.**_

"Mónêhé'še?"

"Nákâhaneotse…" Sully rolled onto his side, away from the medicine man and released the contents of his stomach onto the steam quenched ground.

"Népévomóhtâhehe, néséne?" Cloud Dancing asked quietly, as the young man relaxed onto his back again.

Breathing in and out the deep fumes of the sweat lodge, Sully spoke in a gruff voice, "Nápévomóhtahe. Náováxe…"

"What you saw was not a dream. It was the return of your spirit; the memories which hid deep within you…"

Silence followed the medicine man's statement. "Étatóne'xove? Since I left…" Sully reiterated. "How long has it been?"

"A full cycle of the seasons…"

"One year…I've been gone for…"

"Yes…"

Silence again. "She gave birth…I…I should have been there."

"There is nothing you can do now to turn back time…Dr. Mike is a strong woman, both in body and spirit. But, she will need you soon. You must go to her at that time."

"Tóne'še ého'oesta?"

"It is late, the moon is still on the rise…you cannot travel while so weak…" Could Dancing placed his hand on Sully's shoulder as the man attempted to rise.

"Náaseohtsétáno! Let me leave!"

"You will leave at dawn tomorrow; you will have our fastest horse to take you." Sully relaxed back into the furs at the instruction of the medicine man. "For now, you must rest, my friend. The spirits will look out on Dr. Mike, until your time comes."

"Michaela…" Sully breathed, his sight blurring. The disorienting effects of smoke and exhaustion interwined, and sleep soon overcame the man.

* * *

"What?" Her lungs began to yield as the crowd of people swelled.

"Why'd ya do it, Dr. Mike…" Loren's voice peaked through the multitude of sneers. "Dorothy was yer best friend! And ya went and broke her heart…"

Michaela's ragged breaths came short and sharply into her heaving chest, as silent sobs began to overwhelm her ability to take in air. "I don't understand…there was nothing….nothing happened…"

"Are ya callin' Dorothy blind?" Jake asked accusingly.

"I…I swear…" Michaela spoke between sobs, clutching Katie even closer as the child drew tears as well.

"Well, Michaela…I have ta say, we were all wonderin' where Katie got hair so thin and fair…" Hank said casually, his head falling to the side slightly as he gave a waywardly grin that made Michaela vomit a little in her mouth.

A hand grabbed Michaela's arm roughly, her eyes darting from the horrid blue to meet with voracious brown. "So what's a man gotta pay to get a kiss from this adulteress?" Jake whispered as he leaned in, cheers from the surrounding men pushing him onward.

Just as Michaela's hand was about to fly, a wisp of red hair caught the doctor's attention, and she quickly pulled away from Jake's grasp to catch the woman. "Dorothy…" Michaela touched her friend's arm gently.

Dorothy however turned from her. "I've got nothin' to say to you."

Michaela shook her head, trying to think of what Dorothy could have seen that made her think that she and Daniel had…had… "Dorothy, I don't know what you saw last night…but I swear to you, nothing…nothing happened."

"Well, you could have fooled me Dr. Mike." Dorothy pulled away from the young woman and began to walk away. Yet then she paused, never bothering to turn back and face Michaela. "I saw everything I needed to…from the look in his eye, to the deep lean he made in towards you…"

Michaela's teeth ground in her mouth, now frustrated and bitter with Dorothy's clear ignorance of the situation. "If you had bothered to look at my face you would have seen the tears raining down my cheeks at that moment…he came to console me after a…a misunderstanding we had…don't you see, we're just friends!"

"Oh don't play innocent with me, Michaela!" Dorothy spun around walking towards Dr. Mike, one sour step in front of the other. "All these years you spoke of your innocence and lack of…courage in these fields…well, fool me once shame on you, fool me twice…"

"The only fooling that is going on here is within your own mind…" Michaela spat, tears running unceasingly down her face without restraints for dignity. "I won't tell you again, nothing happened…"

"Oh please don't bother telling me again, Michaela!" Dorothy sneered back. "I wouldn't want you to have to lie again! But then I guess you'd be used to it, seeing as your 'melancholia' from Sully's death has clearly been an act, you've just been waiting for the next kind chap to come around so you can rouse him up too."

Michaela swung her hand up, stinging the flesh on Dorothy's cheek. A slight 'oh' echoed from Dorothy's lips and through the crowd, as Michaela stared venomously at the woman before her; her nostrils flaring. "Don't ever say anything like that again…I died that day." Her body shook with the thousands of sobs that longed to be released. Silence lingered throughout the street, as Michaela walked back towards the horses. Rotating Katie into a one armed grasp, Michaela grabbed hold of Flash's rein and untied it as quickly as she could with her free hand; her body still trembling violently. Without another word, she began to lead the horse down the street.

Her mind was blank yet whirling at the same time, as the tears continued to cascade from her evergreen eyes. Looking up momentarily, Michaela caught Grace's eye. The woman walked from her café, having seen the last part of the fight from afar and internally knowing that her presence was needed. Their gazes met, and Grace knew. "Ya take a nice ride, and ya be careful, ya hear? This will all blow over, just you wait." She embraced the sobbing doctor.

Michaela nodded weakly, her mouth opening slightly; however words would not sound as the dizziness within overwhelmed her.

"Let me take Katie…ya go and get some fresh air, and I'll pack ya up a nice basket dinner for when ya come back, ok…?" Grace spoke softly, seriously concerned for the woman's health, but knowing that what she needed was a moment to release the clogged energy that bound her to this state of nothingness.

Michaela merely nodded again, handing the cooing child over to Grace before turning to face Flash again. Her fingertips brushed gently across the mare's soft coat, grazing the coarse mane hair as she looked forlornly at the animal's bare back. She had never ridden alone without a saddle, and the memory she had of her one excursion involved a person she could not bring herself to think about in her current state. Yet desperate circumstances called for desperate measures. Michaela grasped Flash's mane tightly between her fingers, using the nervous energy her to throw herself over the saddle. If she was uncomfortable under the eyes of the town previously, riding bare back did nothing to help the situation. Still, she nudged the horse gently and gripped the abrasive fibers even tighter.

Had the tears not blinded her eyesight so, had her need to break away not been so great, Michaela may have recognized the blacksmith in the wagon, which barreled into town before she turned and sped into the woods.

* * *

Rough, thick fibers absorbed the sweat that gathered on his fingers as he clung to the horse's mane. Faster and faster he pushed the mare through the trees, winding in and out of thickets and brush. Never pausing, never breaking. His mind was clear and focused; the memories which had once been nothing but wisps of dialogue now were absorbed fully.

"_You still have much to remember. The spirits showed you only what you needed to see, the rest will come when the time is right." _Cloud Dancing had spoken the wise words before he left. Instantly Sully knew that it was true, as some periods of his past still seemed to be missing; however, he felt so alive and refreshed with the memories he had received, that he could hardly control his excitement.

The wind rippled through his heavily soiled shirt, which clung to his chest, holding precipitation he had released in the sweat lodge. Sully basked in the cool, rich feeling; freedom calling, home beckoning. With each turn and bend of a tree, the path before him became more and more recognizable. He knew where he was, and yet he didn't; but all the same it didn't matter because he was so close…so, so close. He could taste it in the air, the anticipation settling with the humid dew. He could smell it in the trees, the way they urged him onward, leading him to his destination. He could feel it in his soul, which soared above the clouds in a rush of exhilaration. He was so close, so close…

* * *

Tears mingled with a soft layer of dust, which flew up from the ground and settled on her face as they tore down the unbeaten path; no knowledge or care for their destination. All she wanted was to get away; away from the torture and agony, from the fear and loneliness, the pain and the lies. Faster and faster, Michaela pushed Flash, desiring more than anything to feel that exhilarating flying sensation, as she once did during her rides. More than anything, she wished for freedom from the cursed cloud which had hung over her for the past year; to just forget it all…everything since she had come from Boston. Yet no wish was granted.

Spontaneously, Michaela pulled Flash's neck to the left, steering the mare further into the darkening woods. "Come on Flash…keep going girl." Michaela breathed as Flash was forced to dodge the trees at a quicker pace. Something within her pushed to keep going, leading her like a moth to the flame; never quite reaching a destination she so longed for, a destination that burned and healed her all at once. Light broke through the trees up ahead, and she pushed Flash onward. Concentrating so intently on those broken sun beams ahead, Michaela failed to see a low-hanging branch until it was much too late. A sharp blow to her head, followed by the fearful sensation of falling filled her, as Flash continued to ride without her companion.

Michaela's terrified screams echoed across the forest, drowning out the dissipating sound of hooves upon the forest floor as Flash vanished into the developing darkness of the woods. Landing with a painful 'thud,' Michaela groaned out of her misery, which had now become both physical and emotional, as she lay breathless among the soft pine-needles and leaves. She held her chest in her arms, trying to catch the air that had so suddenly been blown from her. Slowly and painfully, the sweet forest air began to flow through her deprived lungs, allowing blood to resurface in her pale cheeks. Michaela sighed softly, gazing up at the canopies high above her.

"That was beautiful, Michaela…" she panted, closing her eyes in a tight wince as she attempted to rise. The action was futile, for she quickly discovered that her ankle was broken. Slumping back onto the cold, heartless ground, Michaela returned her gaze to the sky, cursing her foolishness and futile desires. "How could I ever think of being free…why did I ever believe such a thing was possible…" She chastised herself, weary from the endless disappointment and failure.

A distant rumble, followed by the ever-so-slow progression of pattering upon the dust ridden terrain alerted Michaela to the approaching storm. As rain drops fell rapidly form the heavens, Michaela remained in the same position, allowing the tears from the sky to cleanse her face; a particularly large drop fell directly on Michaela's left temple, causing her to wince. Bringing her hand up to touch her head where the branch had left its mark, she winced again; withdrawing her fingers, Michaela watched as the rain rinsed away the blood from the tips.

"Wonderful…" Michaela laughed satirically. The smile soon faded from her lips, leaving her face impassive to what could soon be her fate. Falling back onto the soft mud, Michaela closed her eyes allowing the quickening rain to drench her; skin, clothing and all, hoping that she might simply sink into the forest floor and forever be forgotten.

* * *

"Grace!" Robert E. jumped from his wagon seat, never bothering to release the horses. Running to his wife, he saw Katie sleeping in her arms. "Grace…where's Dr. Mike?"

Grace shook her head. "She went out for a ride…she'll be back soon. Oh, you missed quite a scene from the town today. How was your trip?"

"No…no time for that." Robert E. panted.

Hearing the tension and urgency in his voice, Grace stopped stirring the soup she'd been brewing and looked up towards her husband. "What's wrong Robert E.? What happened?"

The blacksmith looked left and right to see if anyone was eavesdropping. Gently holding his wife's arm, he led her to the small alley way between the café and the clinic. "I was riding back from Denver and I came across a man walkin' to Colorado Springs. He was a soldier, beat up real bad. I offered him a ride, and he took it…"

"Ya offered a stranger a ride? A soldier none the less? Robert E. we've still not fully won our freedom in these states…It's a good thing Colorado is sidin' with the Union but…"

"Just listen to me…let me finish." Robert E. interrupted his wife's chastising, again looking around for potential listeners. "The man looked familiar, yet he was so different, I would have never thought it was him until…"

"Until what?"

"Two Dog Soldiers stopped us about thirty miles back up the road…the man…the one I picked up, he knew Cheyenne…"

"It was a trap then?"

"No, no ya don't get what I'm sayin'!" Robert E. sighed. "The soldier, he spoke Cheyenne, and I knew I'd seen those blue eyes before, I just didn't think it was possible…"

Grace shook her head. "You're not makin' any sense Robert E.; what was possible?"

"The man…it was Sully…he's alive."

* * *

The sweet smell of rain filled his nostrils as he rode through the woods, allowing his senses to take him where they willed. There was something uncannily familiar about these trees, something he could not quite put his finger on; it was as if they had recently visited him in a dream. Pondering as he rode, Sully absorbed his surroundings, feeling overwhelmed with an emotion which seemed to spring from the branches and latch onto his mind and soul, pushing him onwards towards some unknown source.

Nudging the horse ever so slightly in the ribs, Sully sped through the trees, feeling the forest guiding him to his destination. Soon falling into a swift gallop, dodging in and out of trees and branches, Sully followed the constant pulling of his heart until he suddenly came to a halt. Before him stood a small wooden structure in the clearing; simple yet sturdy in design, hovering over discarded piles of soft furs and wool blankets.

An eerie feeling consumed Sully, as he jumped from the back of his horse and slowly approached the lean-to, grazing his fingers over the wood methodically. "I've been here before…" he said in a hush. "…so long, but not so long ago…"

An icy breeze broke the humid fog as it whipped past Sully, bringing with it a terrified scream that chilled him to the core. Thunder instantly followed the frantic cry, jerking the man from his reverie. The shriek had triggered a fear and power deep within him, as if he recognized that voice, as if it was someone he knew once, someone he cared for.

The tingling sense that his presence was needed suddenly filled and empowered him. Without a second thought Sully took off through the trees, leaving his horse in the clearing and racing in the direction in which the cry sounded from.

* * *

His temper was fuming. How could she do that to her best friend, how could she do that to someone so kind, so understanding? "Dorothy!" Daniel stomped into the Mercantile.

Dorothy turned from her dusting, yet upon seeing the man she rotated back. "I don't want to talk to ya right now…"

"Well you're lack of desire to talk certainly didn't stop ya from tellin' the entire town about somethin' you've got no understandin' about!" Daniel shot back.

The mercantile became dead quiet, all eyes fixed on Dorothy for her response. When none came Loren stepped forward. "Now listen here…I'm gonna have to ask you to leave if ya don't keep your voice down."

"Yeah? And are ya gonna ask her to leave?" Daniel did nothing to lower his voice. "She certainly didn't keep her voice down this mornin' in front of the whole town! Ya went and took out your blind jealousy on that poor woman, when ya should have been upset with me!" He paced the floor slightly, biting his tongue so as to prevent the venomous words which threatened to break through. "Ya know…you can be a real nice lady, Ms. Jennings; and I've definitely enjoyed the time I've spent with ya these past few weeks. But if this is how ya treat your friends, I'm sorry…I don't want no part of it. I'm gonna be leavin' on the next stagecoach out of here. As much as Michaela needs all the friends she can get, somethin' tells me my presence isn't exactly the most desired of company."

With that Daniel turned on his good leg, and limped down the wooden steps.

"Wait!" Dorothy's voice stopped the man in his tracks. "You're right…what I did was wrong, and I'm sorry."

Silence lingered between the two for a few minutes before Daniel spoke quietly, never turning to face the journalist, "It's not me ya should be apologizin' to, it's Michaela." Daniel took another step into the road, only to nearly be knocked over by Colleen, who bound up the steps towards Dorothy.

"How could you do that to her, you witch!?" Colleen shouted at the already distressed woman, causing Dorothy to cower even more so into herself.

"Colleen!" Loren exclaimed. "You should be ashamed of yourself talking to your elder like that!"

"I don't care how old she is! She acted like a child today from what I've heard in town…" Colleen's voice was becoming increasingly high-pitched as tears swelled in her eyes and muffled her words. "Ya have no idea what you've done, do ya?

"I know Colleen you're angry, and ya got every right to be…" Dorothy began weakly.

Colleen wouldn't have it. She could not watch this woman, who had given her adopted mother so much grief, try and insinuate that she 'understood'. "No, with all due respect, Ms. Dorothy, ya can't even begin to know! Ya were never there! Ya were never there to hear Dr. Mike's screams in the middle of the night when she woke from a nightmare of Sully's death. Ya were never there to see her completely break down because she dropped the silverware on her way to set the table for dinner. Ya were never there to see her refuse to pick up her own daughter, simply because she feared that if she grew attached to her, Katie would leave just like everything else that she cared for seemed to. So don't go tellin' me ya know somethin', cause ya don't! Ya just don't!"

"That's enough Colleen." Matthew's voice broke the intermediate silence which clung to every living creature in the store.

"I just want ta find my Ma…" Brian spoke softly, tears now forming in his own eyes. "…I don't want ta lose a second Ma!"

Matthew ruffled his brother's hair, and looked back up at Loren and Dorothy. "Do either of ya happen to know where Dr. Mike is?"

Loren shook his head and looked away, ashamed of the part he had played in the morning's uproar. Dorothy, on the other hand never allowed her tear-reddened gaze to drop from Colleen's, who was still staring daggers at the middle-aged woman. "'Kay, well we'll just be goin' then…" Matthew walked up to Colleen, placing his arm around her shoulders. The fair-haired young lady resisted Matthew's lead initially, emitting a slight "no" as she scuffled her feet to the steps; however the process was futile, and she was forced to accompany her brothers down the stairs and through the bustling streets.

Silence still rang within the mercantile, as Loren continued to sweep softly, refusing to look at Dorothy. The woman in turn, never gazed at the shop keeper, and furthermore, never dropped her gaze from the place in which Colleen had once stood. She merely stood there, hollowed and void from the experience, never flinching or bothering to move as customers weaved in and out of the store. It was then, in that moment, that Dorothy realized the severity of what she had done. She had pulled the last straw.

* * *

The gentle rhythm of the drizzling rain soothed Michaela's aching head, yet did nothing for the pain in her heart, as she lay on the bed of mud and leaves. "Sully…" She breathed; her mind drifting from one heartache to the next as she stared up at the vast, grey nothingness.

"Sully…" Michaela spoke again; the name much more defined. Rolling onto her side, she gritted her teeth. "Sully!" Beating the ground, her tears mixed perfectly with the rain water; all eventually soaking into the soft terrain. A sob broke through her, and then another, and another. "Sully!" She cried, pushing past the pain in her ankle to rise.

Lifting her head to the sky, Michaela watched as lightning suddenly illuminated the darkening clouds. "I HATE YOU!" Her shrill scream was lost to the clap of thunder which shook the ground. Anger filled and tormented every nerve of her body. No longer did sorrow or self-pity overwhelm her outlook. No longer did moving on or forgetting offer a sense of peace to her soul. Now such emotions had fallen away, deep inside her, allowing a rage she did not realize she was capable of to consume her. "SULLY!" She screamed, before taking off in a hobbling sprint.

Fueled by the anger within, Michaela did not notice the pain that seared her leg with every step she took. Faster and faster she ran, dodging past oak and pine, seeing nothing but the destination before her. She was so close. So close. Harder and harder she pushed herself, her legs barely keeping up with the fury which drove her. So close, so, so close. Faster, harder; quickening her step, pushing up from the ground with every muscle she could spare. Running, sprinting; from love, from hate, from sorrow. Onward, closer, so much closer…

Her ankle finally gave way, and Michaela came crashing to the ground, in a drenched huddle.

- - -

She did not see him standing beside the Pine; her focus was far too intent on that spectrum of light; hope that so quickly vanished. But he saw her.

His breath caught.

_Squinting into the orbed glare, he watched as a shadowed feminine figure split the blinding light, approaching him in a methodical, yet graceful sway_.

"_Closer just a little…"_

_Just as the figure came close enough for her eyes to sparkle as brown and green specks through the darkness, she suddenly halted her approach…_

She stumbled. Her hobbled sprint suddenly blended into a graceful fall; like the thousands of raindrops around her, she descended onto, and then into the moist terrain.

His pulse stopped.

Her body lay crippled in the puddle; mud splattered across her features. Her limbs submerged into the ground at odd angles, giving the effect that she was, like a tree, sprouting from some unseen seed in the ground. That her roots had broke from the terrain to, for just a moment, gather the sunlight and rain that would bake the ground.

As he gazed at her soiled copper locks, his heart beckoned him to run to her, to hold her, to put his mind and soul at peace. Yet he could not move, he could barely breathe; his legs were brimming with lead and his head was aching with a dizzying exuberant sensation. He just stared.

- - -

Michaela lay face down in the sludge; her arms sprawled out beside her broken body. There was no hope in her muscle, no strength in her heart. The soft mud felt so cool beneath her, so comfortable, so relaxing to simply think just for a moment that all the pain could be over; all the misery could sink from her mind as she slowly and effortlessly disintegrated into the midst. She may have lain there for eternity, left to fall into the earth from which she'd come, had two arms not gathered her crumpled body from the muck. Michaela's eyes flashed open, and she looked upon the face of the man carrying her.

Ocean, meadow, sky, forest. A meeting of all, nature's perfectly adorned miracle.

"I'm dead…" a voice, not of her own spoke. "…I've died, surely I must have."

His arm, broken and disjointed, began to tire as he walked.

"No…I can't die…Katie…no…" Her breath shortened.

He stopped walking, and kneeled down, the rain falling over his battered features. "You're not dead…"

She shook her head, staring everywhere but his eyes; they pierced her soul, her heart, her spirit. "No…you're here, I can't be alive…"

"No…I'm here."

"No!" Her voice cried out, pushing away from her rescuer. "No! I…I won't believe it, I can't! Katie…oh God, I've left her…and Brian and Colleen…oh God what have I done…"

"Why can't you believe me?" He urged.

She sat in dreaded silence, before looking up, straight into his eyes. "Because I'm tired of being fooled. I'm tired of the dreams…of you, begging me, pleading with me, always telling me it's truly, honestly, fully you. I'm tired Sully. I'm so tired of waking up in my bed, believing so earnestly that you are lying beside me; only to roll over onto an empty pillow…"

Tears, rain, dust, and pain; all melded into one on both faces, both hurt and crippled faces.

"I can't dream of you any more…you have to go…" She whispered, her eyes dropping to her drenched skirt.

Silence.

"No…you won't dream of me any longer. You won't have to…" He touched her chin, leading her gaze up to meet his. "Look at me…"

She was lost in that gaze, that perfect, beautiful gaze. How her heart longed to believe, just one last time. She shook her head slowly, never dropping the stare. Then, her eyes moved, absorbing the features of his face; the scar, the bruises. She looked down his body. The hand which had touched her was blackened with injury and grime. His shoulders were mismatched; one bloodied from a deep wound, the other disjointed from a fall. Again she looked up at his face. Slowly her delicate hand rose to touch the scar upon his cheek.

He closed his eyes, basking in the sensation of her gentle touch; reveling in the feeling of her presence.

Her fingers traced the cool line until it reached his ear. There they continued their wandering path through his thick locks, stopping only when they reached the ends, before flowing up to the roots and descending again.

"Michaela…"

Her name, his voice; how long had it been since she'd heard them in unison?

"Michaela…"

She stopped the threading motion and looked completely into his gaze. And there, only there, she was home.

"I promised you, I'd return…"

She shook her head sadly, tears spilling forth at an unprecedented pace. "I'm so sorry, I doubted you…"

"No…I'm sorry." He took her hand which had been held aloft at his face and held it lovingly in his own. Their hands and gazes were solidly entwined as they sat breathless, unable to speak, unable to express what could not be expressed in words, symbols, or sounds.

"Sully…" She barely breathed. "…is it you…?"

"It is…" He reached up, just skimming the flesh of her face.

Her eyes closed. "I swear if this is a dream…"

"Well, it's the best kind of dream…" Subconsciously leaning, beckoning, pulling.

Her eyes flashed open, seeing his face a breath from hers. "What…?"

Their breaths, their tears, their glances; waiting to be mixed, waiting to be molded, ready to blend into one masterpiece. "…It's one that came true."

_Ignition._ A breath shortened, and then dissipated, until nothing stood between them. Not air, not distance, not time, not memories. _Love._ Love was all that stood; secure and brilliant, resilient and formidable, potent and lasting. Lips locking, tears crushing, wind encompassing, rain drifting, time stopping. _Love._

There was no one, no time, no place; nothing. There lay only them, only their love, only that kiss.

Suddenly, Michaela pulled away breathless, tears still pelting down her rosy cheeks. "I'm not the same woman you left…not the same one you married. I'm so sorry, I just…I wouldn't blame you if you didn't love me anymore."

A surprised grin crinkled across his mouth, as Sully cupped her face with his hand. "Michaela, I ain't the same man that left ya a year ago either. We've both been through so much; we were bound to change with the world around us. But the thing is…" He took Michaela's hand in his free one, kissing her fingers gently. "Come what may, whether there's a thousand miles seperatin' us, or a decade between when I last see your smile, I will love ya until the end of time."

Smiles and tears mingled on her face, and Michaela suddenly was lost for words and actions. "Hold me…" the words drifted from her lips, without consciousness. "Hold me like you did before any of this ever happened…"

Slowly and carefully, aware of both of their injuries, Sully gathered his wife into his arms, holding her like he'd never let go. "No, I'll hold ya like it did happen; closer, tighter, longer."

They lay in each others' arms for an eternity, _or was it merely a millisecond_; little did it matter as time was not of an importance to either. They had found each other; two hearts had become one, two lovers star-crossed, two soul mates together. _Together_ was all they needed; _together_ was all that mattered.

* * *

Epilogue:

Hours would pass and eventually those who were brought together by destined fortune would have to return to the world that they both wished to forget. In the coming moments, Sully would be reunited with friends and family from his past; memories pouring forth as if from a pitcher to a glass. The image of Brian and Colleen running towards him, embracing him, crying and laughing all around him; the steady handshake from Matthew, which soon became a hug as well; all these memories, all these happy times, so kindled in Sully's heart. Yet the one that Sully hoped he never forgot, the one he treasured, and would hold onto for eternity, was the introduction that followed.

"Sully…" Michaela's voice was hoarse and light from sobbing and the cold rain that still loitered on her skin, as she turned to Colleen and picked up the infant from her loving grasp. Turning to her husband, Michaela limped forward slowly, carefully, cautiously; as if the moment before her would somehow crumble into dust if she treaded too harshly. "Three months ago, I gave birth to two beautiful children. A son and a daughter…"

Colleen began to walk forward, hearing her mother's voice crack, yet Matthew quickly put his hand on the young woman's shoulder. _She must do this on her own._

Sully looked from child to mother, overcome with emotion, wanting nothing more than to engulf both in his arms. Yet he was held back by the nagging in his heart which warned him that more needed to be said; more needed to be put to rest.

"I never could tell you…it was so difficult to admit to myself, but…" Michaela continued despite her body's reluctance. "…I didn't want to hurt you, we'd already been through so much pain. But I feel I must tell you now. Sully, our son…your son, he died in labor."

He was numb, so numb as he stepped slowly towards his wife. Tears were raining down all faces present, but not a sound was heard; all waiting for one reaction, one word or phrase. Michaela, whose gaze had been fixed squarely on the ground, slowly looked up into the eyes that she had so longed to see. There, she found acceptance, there she found love, there she found rest.

"Who is this?" Sully whispered, bringing his hand up to graze the rim of the baby's bonnet.

Michaela let out a single weak laugh amidst the tears. "This…this is our miracle; this is your daughter, Katherine."

His tear swollen eyes leapt from the child to her mother momentarily, joy filling him as more memories entered his mind. "Katherine? Like my…"

"…Your mother, yes. Katherine Elizabeth Sully; we call her Katie for short." Michaela confirmed. Seeing the yearning look in his eye, she asked quietly. "Would you like to hold her?"

Sully looked up quickly, fear and yet excitement battling inside of him as he slowly nodded. "Yes…"

In that moment of first contact, it was as if the entire universe had ceased to exist; there was no question, no words. "She's her Daddy's little girl." Michaela sniffled, her grin widening with her eyes. Michaela broke her gaze momentarily with Sully to wave over Colleen, Brian and Matthew. The children ran to their mother, hugging and rejoicing in the new found joy of life.

_Life is a state of mind and a state of being; it can be taken and given without hesitation. Love however, is much more complicated; it is everlasting and forbearing. Love cannot be given so easily and certainly it cannot be taken away without the breaking of one's heart. Love creates life within those who it affects; fills it and defines purpose within it. Love fuels life. Without love, what is life?_

Nêhe'še!

Fin!

END!

**_Please, please share your thoughts and critics with me! Whether it be here, at the DQ forum, or via email (_********_) Please! I'd be so grateful to hear what you thought of this chapter, any chapter, or the story in general! And of course, thank you for reading!_**

Extended/Alternative ending:

The following was written for humor's sake and nothing else. The idea came one night, probably at 3 in the morning as I vented my frustrations with certain characters to Ren. From that discussion we joked about an alternative ending which eventually grew into a promise to write said ending and post it following the final chapter. The grammar is intentional, as it is a running joke between Ren and I; I apologize if this bothers you as well. Read at your own risk/humor.

How I was about to end CWM:

"Michaela…"

Her name, his voice; how long had it been since she'd heard them in unison?

"Michaela…"

She stopped the threading motion and looked completely into his gaze. And there, only there, she was home.

"I promised you, I'd return…"

She shook her head sadly, tears spilling forth at an unprecedented pace. "I'm so sorry, I doubted you…"

"No…I'm sorry." Slowly, Sully lowered his head, his breath coming in short, painful quakes.

"Sully?" Michaela breathed, horrified as she watched her husband fall into her lap. "Oh God, Sully; what's happening, what's wrong?"

She held his head in her arms as he looked up first at the falling rain and then to her. "I promised I would come back to you…"

Tears pelted effortlessly down both faces. "And you did! You did come back. Oh Sully, what's wrong, tell me please what hurts, let me fix it!" Michaela sobbed, seeing the light slowly fading from his eyes. "Please don't leave me Sully…"

But he shook his head, entranced by her beauty. "I came back…I promised…I love you Michaela, until the end of time." He spoke with his final breath, using the last bit of energy he possessed to proclaim his undying love.

"Sully!" Michaela's screams echoed off of distant cliff hangings; her terrified voice rebounding to her ears, torturing her, choking her.

Rain continued to fall from the heavens, blanketing the woman as she knelt in the mud, her dead husband in her arms.

**Just kidding! No seriously I was about to do that though! ****Aren't you glad I'm not that mean!**

_Ok seriously people, this is the end. I love you all. Thanks for the great times!_

_Peace, Love, and all things Ducky,_

_Penny/Wind dancer/ (really truly) Aspen_

PS: This story is dedicated to my favorite penguin in the whole wide world! The following is a testament of that love.

(Sung to "favorite things" for the Sound of Music)

Logging onto msn to find ren there, on the forum at 2am without a care...typing out stories with her pal renny, these are a few favorite things for penny!...talking to renny at four in the morning, Shouting out random-crazy things without warning, PICK AXE, and NAILS, and don't forget CANES!... i'm so sor-ry this whole song is so lame! When I'm thrown off of the forum, when I'm feeling sad...I simply remember my Kindred spirit, and then I don't feel so bad!


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